Darkness Falls
by Vampiracy
Summary: All Craig wants is a kiss. All Clyde wants is to control the universe and kill the Earth. Cryde, based on the Stick of Truth.
1. Banished

So I've loved South Park since forever, but the Stick of Truth really dragged me into the fandom and I have to say, there needs to be more Cryde. This is my attempt at helping to further that agenda, or, something. Anyway, please enjoy!

* * *

"A-and then we lost the Stick and I got banished from space and _tiiiiiiiiime_!"

Craig had known something was up with Clyde the second his friends broke him out of detention. That part was expected. The sight of some new kid wearing Clyde's helmet was not. He turned to Facebook for explanation, and there it was: Clyde was banished from the game. Weak.

So instead of going straight back to the KKK Craig stopped at the house next door to his to hear the full sob story from Clyde, complete with actual sobs.

"But he didn't have the Stick. You made him lose it," Craig reasoned. He thought it was pretty good reasoning, but apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Clyde looked at him with trembling dejection. "I mean, without the Stick he doesn't have the power to do that," Craig elaborated. This didn't help either.

"That's what I _saaaaaaid_!" Clyde wailed. "But he's a king so he _doeees_! I even tried joining the elves but I can't play anymore because a king banished _meeeee_!"

"Those guys are assholes," Craig said. "You're better off not playing with them anyway."

"You're still playing with them," Clyde pointed out miserably, eyes downcast.

Craig hesitated. Those guys _were_ assholes, and he didn't like hanging out with them – nobody at school did – but the game was fun. Considerably less so now that Clyde couldn't play, but still. "The whole town's playing, Clyde."

"Yeah, except me."

Craig frowned. He wasn't a very comforting person, just in general. Put that together with a best friend who needed comfort constantly and you had some awkward moments. "I could try talking to the king. Maybe when we have the Stick again he'll un-banish you," he tried. He wasn't very hopeful, but it was worth a shot, even if all it did was cheer up the banished warrior for the time being. By the immediate look of protest on Clyde's face it did not, and Craig was still very bad at this.

"No! If he gets the Stick back all he'll do is make it official. I hate Wizard Fatass!" Clyde declared hotly. "Him and that stupid new kid!"

"He was wearing your helmet." Craig wasn't sure why he felt the need to tell him this. Maybe he just wanted someone else to be as irritated as he was about it.

"ARGH! I HATE HIM, I HATE HIM!" He was.

Craig's pocket buzzed then, and he pulled out his phone to see a Facebook notification. It was a message from the grand wizard.

_Craig, the fuck?! Douchebag didn't break you out for you to watch Red fucking Racer! We're going to reclaim the Stick RIGHT NOW so you'd better report to the KKK or I will BANISH YOU FROM SPACE AND TIME!_

The daggers Craig glared into his phone were only blunted by his confusion at the follow-up message, appearing just as he'd finished reading the first.

_When we get back you're in charge of the shop because Clyde's gone and you sound like him._

"I don't sound like you." Craig looked up, disgruntled, but Clyde wasn't in front of him anymore – he was at his side, peering invasively to see the messages. Craig paused, but slowly angled his phone so Clyde could see it better from where he was. It didn't stop the shorter boy from leaning in, and then grabbing Craig's wrist to pull his hand closer.

"Can't you just take the phone?" Craig muttered, but Clyde did not seem to consider this as he stared intently at the small screen.

That was another thing: Clyde was touchy-feely. He supposed it went hand in hand with the whole needing comfort thing, but the point was, Craig was not. Not usually. Like many unspoken rules, there was also one unspoken exception, and for Craig, that exception was Clyde. Shoving him away seemed like a level of heartlessness he couldn't quite achieve. The other reason – the bigger one – was that he liked him. A lot.

Now, Craig didn't _want_ to like him like that. There was nothing good about having a crush on your best friend. Who was a guy. When you were also a guy.

The point was it was bad. By the time he realized he had these feelings they became impossible to ignore. It was stupid that one little touch was all it took to make him think about Clyde like that, but that's exactly what happened every damn time. He loved it when he touched him, but sometimes he also wished he'd stop.

"Guess you have to go," Clyde finally let go of Craig to sink down at the end of his bed. "I should get to go, too. I'll make them regret kicking me out," he said, once again switching from sad to vindictive. "They're going to pay!"

Craig did have to go, but he also had to make sure Clyde wasn't going to do anything stupid. Frustrating crushes aside, it was his duty as the best friend to look out for him. "Don't do anything."

"But- but it's not fair!"

"Yep. And if I had the Stick I'd control the universe." Clyde just looked at him blankly. "Clyde, Cartman's not just going to back off if you do something. He'd get you back worse. Just consider yourself lucky you don't have to play with him anymore, and don't." As if on cue, Craig's phone buzzed again, lighting up with another message.

_CRAIG I AM SERIOUSLAH_

"I have to go," Craig said. "Just play video games inside or build a tree fort or something, okay? Don't try to get revenge. I'll see if I can hang out later."

Clyde didn't say anything, just nodded. Craig didn't have any more time to stick around; he just hoped that he'd convinced him to leave it alone. It sucked, but it could be worse.

* * *

Craig decided that he didn't mind Sir Douchebag as much when he was promoted and stopped wearing Clyde's old helmet. He also helped Craig break into the Inn of the Giggling Donkey's basement, and ultimately got the Stick back for the humans of the KKK. Craig had been skeptical about their chances, but Douchebag was really good at this. He could see why Cartman made him do everything.

Then it got late, and everyone had to go because it was a school night. On Craig's way home he looked up to see that the light to Clyde's room was on, and he barely got in his front door before his phone buzzed with a text message. Craig got to his room and shut the door firmly before he checked it.

_u ge tit?_

Clyde's texting was one of those things that annoyed Craig to no end at first, until he started to find it kind of endearing – a fact which annoyed him even more, because that text was horrible, what the hell was wrong with him? He was trying not to smile and everything, it was awful.

_The Stick of Truth? Yes. It's back in the KKK._

Craig dropped his phone on his bed and went to his closet to change out of his thief costume and into his pajamas. He'd barely made it a step before his phone buzzed with a response, but he ignored it until he finished changing. In that time, it buzzed again. Two new messages.

_:D_

_did u ask wizard about me_

Craig sent off a quick '_No._' before going to his window and looking out. Clyde was there, in the window of the neighboring house with his head turned down as his thumbs jabbed away at his phone. Then he looked up and smiled, raising a hand to wave at Craig just as his phone buzzed once again.

_thx :)_

_You're welcome._

He sent the text and gave Clyde a short nod. The brunette smiled again and went back to his phone. In the meantime, Craig's eyes wandered to the new structure in Clyde's backyard. He smiled.

_Nice tree fort._

He hadn't been serious when he suggested it, not really, but Clyde took his advice anyway. It made him feel special. Treehouses were pretty much just for playing truth or dare, right? And truth or dare was just a sneaky way to kiss people you liked.

You know, maybe…

His phone buzzed.

_glad u got it back im goin 2 sleep now c u at lunch tmrw u will sit w me still rite? :) thx! kinda small now it will b better_

Craig blinked over at Clyde through their windows. Curfew or not, they usually texted way later than this.

_Yeah, I always sit with you. Not sure if anyone else will. Good night._

_:D nite!_

Clyde grinned and waved at him. He waved back as the other boy disappeared, his room light flickering off seconds after.

Craig moved away from his own window, pulled off his hat, and ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to talk to Clyde more, and now thanks to his wandering mind, he wanted to kiss him too. Like, more than ever before.

Maybe… maybe it was time to go for it. Get it out of his system, or something; maybe he'd realize Clyde wasn't so great to kiss and get over him. Probably not, but maybe.

Or maybe it would help Clyde realize he liked Craig, too.

He shut off his lights and flopped down to his bed. He needed to figure out a way to make this happen, and do it without risking the devastation of losing Clyde as a best friend. As tempted as he was to just grab and kiss him senseless, he had too much to lose. He didn't think he could handle it if Clyde never spoke to him again. Scratch that, actually – he knew he couldn't.

The treehouse might just be the key. If he could get Clyde to play one of those crappy games with him, like truth or dare, then he could… what, dare him to kiss him? Maybe someone else could dare them to kiss.

Craig frowned. That would involve a co-conspirator, and no way was he telling anybody this. How else could he kiss Clyde; what other crappy clubhouse games existed? Spin the bottle? Then they'd definitely need more people, and it would be left completely to chance. More likely that Clyde would kiss everyone _but_ him. He narrowed his eyes at his ceiling. Spin the bottle was out.

Figuring out how to kiss his best friend proved just about as challenging as he anticipated, and it was kind of exhausting. Eventually he gave up, deciding he would revisit his schemes tomorrow as he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of treehouses, truth or dare, and aliens. Weird.

* * *

So what do you think? Is there interest in more? Thank you for reading (and I'd love a review)!


	2. A Proposition

Okay first off, you guys are awesome. Thank you so much for all of the lovely feedback, it was really encouraging! At first I had it in my head that this could be 3 chapters, one for each of the days in the game, but then I started writing and yeah... that's not happening. 4 or 5 is a safer bet. Anyway, this one was a lot of fun to write so please enjoy!

* * *

When Craig woke up the next morning, he had a sore asshole. He must have been sleeping on it funny. Whatever – he got himself ready for school, making sure to dress in his rogue costume before he moved downstairs. There he saw the rest of his family watching television in the living room.

"Son, school's been canceled for the next few days," his father informed him, "it's on the news."

"Oh." Craig paused to watch the TV. A new Taco Bell? Clyde would be happy. Actually, this was just the type of thing that he would spastically text him about. Craig found himself pulling out his phone to check, but his only notification was for a mass Facebook message sent out by Cartman.

_The Stick has been stolen! Those fucking cheating asshole drow elves should have taken us out to dinner if they wanted to talk about changing the rules, because I don't know about the rest of you humans but I like being wined and dined before I get FUCKED! Report to the KKK immediately after breakfast!_

They just got the Stick back, and now they had to do it again? This was getting stupid. Maybe he should just quit.

Actually… hmm.

Craig didn't report immediately to the KKK after breakfast; he knocked on Clyde's door instead. He had to be awake by now. "Hi," he greeted Mr. Donovan when he answered, "is Clyde home?"

Mr. Donovan shook his head. Craig blinked. Really? "School's canceled, so he went outside to play. Should I let him know you stopped by?" he asked kindly.

"That's okay," Craig said. "Thank you," he added before stepping away, going back to the sidewalk and wandering in the direction of Cartman's house. Looks like he was reporting to Kupa Keep after all. He checked his phone a couple times along the way.

Should he text him? No, Clyde was the one who usually texted first. If he did it it'd be weird. Besides, he doubted Clyde was making him anxious on purpose; he was probably hanging around the new Taco Bell, if that's what it really was. It could just as well be one of those Taco Bell-KFC combos. He'd find out later. In the meantime, better go help take back the Stick.

Or just sit around and keep the shop while Douchebag and Butters were out recruiting the goths. Why had they needed to be here immediately again? They weren't even doing anything. This was dull. Token and Tweek helped, though.

"What if we're missing something important? What if they make us do twice the amount of work when we get back! ARGH! It's too much pressure! Why would Taco Bell close the school?!"

"Taco Bell didn't close the school Tweek, that was the earthquake and fires. The mayor says everything will be back to normal soon though?" Token offered.

"No dude it was totally the Taco Bell," Cartman input from his place at the head of the keep, looking up from his phone.

"Was not," Token argued, "it was the earthquakes and fires. The news said!"

"And where do you think the earthquakes and fires came from, Token?" Cartman said, annoyed.

"Taco Bell wouldn't do that! Would they?" Tweek's eyes widened. "Gah!"

"Look, forget about the Taco Bell!" Cartman snapped. "We have bigger things to worry about. Sir Douchebag is getting us the goth kids, but we have to figure out where those sneaky little drow elves hid the Stick of Truth!"

Craig looked at him blandly. "Is that what we're doing."

"Screw you, Craig! I'm watching the carrier ravens! Why don't you make yourself useful and fucking sell something!"

"Would you like to see my wares, weary traveler."

"That's not what I fucking- EY! Don't flip me off you asshole!"

"ALARM!" Butters came running into the keep, arms flailing. "Alarm! Alarm!"

"Butters!" Cartman rushed forward, alert. "Butters, what's wrong? Where is Sir Douchebag! He wasn't grounded, was he?" he asked fearfully.

"Sir Douchebag," Butters said quickly, pausing between heavy breaths, "Sir Douchebag was taken – by the wicked drow elves – of the forest!"

"Oh my _GOD_!"

"They hit him with a hammer and dragged him off!"

"Hit him with a- Butters! Where were you for all of this? You were supposed to be his buddy!"

"Well I was bein' his buddy, Eric," Butters said, shuffling nervously, "we beat up the drow elves and everything, but then they got up and got their hammer and, oh jeez-"

"Fucking cheating asshole rat Jew ELVES! I fucking HATE _ELVES_! Craig!"

"Yeah?"

Cartman let go of his anger to straighten up, moving his arms behind his back. "It appears that you're humanity's last hope now, Craig. Douchebag has been captured; taken from us! Though to where, we cannot know." He started pacing. "Imprisoned in the Elven Kingdom itself? Or being tortured in the forest, perhaps. We need someone with stealth. Someone who can survey the elven army undetected, discover where Douchebag is being kept, and release him from the clutches of their evil. Only a thief can handle this task, so go, Feldspar! Go, and see our hero returned."

Once all eyes were on him, Craig nodded seriously. "Nothing a level twelve thief can't handle." A rescue mission was waaay cooler than attending a shop. He stepped back and turned with a dramatic _whoosh_ of his cloak to take his leave.

"Oh gosh, do you really think Craig will be able to rescue Sir Douchebag?"

"Pray that he can, Butters. Pray that he can."

Craig was definitely about to. Then he got a text message.

_Come over right now._

He stared down at his phone, eyes flashing between the message and the sender. No, that was definitely Clyde. What could be urgent enough to merit spelling, and punctuation? And yet, the KKK was counting on him.

Craig walked out to the front of Cartman's house and stopped on the sidewalk, considering his choices: left, to spy on the Elven Kingdom, or right, to go see Clyde. He stood in quiet contemplation for a few moments, then sighed. He had to do what he had to do.

_Omw_.

* * *

"Oh, Craig, hello again," Mr. Donovan smiled. "Clyde's home now. He's in the backyard playing with his friends, why don't you go on back?"

Craig frowned. Friends? He didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, it would probably make more sense once he got back there. Then he did, and it did.

"Woah." Craig stopped in the back doorway, just staring. Clyde's modest little truth-or-dare tree fort had been transformed into a towering, multi-level tree _fortress_ that a bunch of sixth graders were still adding flags and chains to.

"Are you Craig?"

Craig looked down from the fortress to see one of the sixth graders standing at the base, guarding its entrance with his arms crossed. "Yeah."

He stepped aside. "The dark lord is expecting you."

"Okay." Apparently Clyde was a dark lord now.

Craig ascended the fortress to the higher levels, passing more sixth graders along the way. This base was awesome. Way cooler than the Kingdom of Kupa Keep. He continued to walk through the levels until he finally reached the throne room, and yeah, Clyde was definitely a dark lord now. A hot one. _Damn_.

"Hello, Feldspar," Clyde said, folding his fingers together and leaning forward with menace. A small part of Craig wondered how long he'd been sitting there waiting to do that, but mostly he was just impressed. So, naturally, he took a stunned step back.

"Clyde! But, I don't understand. You were sent into exile by the grand wizard!"

"Was I?" Clyde's smirk grew as he pulled his hands apart, reaching one behind his back while he kept his eyes locked with Craig's. Well, kind of – his arm fumbled around a bit and he had to break the gaze to shoot a quick glance behind his back to locate whatever he was grasping for before he refocused.

"Behold!"

Craig gasped. "The Stick of Truth." So it wasn't the elves that took it, but Clyde. Craig underestimated him. Who could have guessed that his plan for vengeance would be so effective? Well, one thing was clear: the game just got a whole lot more interesting.

"So you see, I control the universe now," Clyde boasted proudly. Craig fought off a smile. "And now you're probably wondering: why would I show you all of this?"

"I'm not wondering," Craig replied. "You want me to join you and your army of darkness."

"Army of darkness? Hey, that's a cool- I mean, YES! The grand wizard won't have authority for much longer, Feldspar. Neither king will. Help me spy on them as I continue to build up my army, and then when the time is right, join me as the dark lord's chief assassin!"

…Being a double agent was waaay cooler than being on a rescue mission.

If it worked out.

"Your army appears formidable, but the humans are strong and the elves are many. We both know how easily the tides turn in these lands. Even now the KKK works to recruit the goth faction. If they discover our deception we both risk being lost in space and time, indefinitely."

Clyde was undeterred. In fact, he smiled. "The goth faction, you say. How appropriate, then, that I have already taken steps to recruit the vampire kids! Do not worry for the," he paused, searching for the right word, "magnitude, of my Army of Darkness. Everything is in hand! All that's left is an elite second in command, and I'm evil now so it _has_ to be a chief assassin," he said pointedly, before his eyes and voice softened. "I need you, Craig."

Craig couldn't help the rush he felt at those words. He _needed_ him. That wasn't a thing guys said to their completely platonic friends. Craig stopped himself before his thoughts could go too far in that direction, though; it was being too hopeful, and besides, there was still something that bothered him about this whole thing. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I'm your best friend. You know I could have helped you with all this."

Clyde looked away sheepishly. "I'm sorry. It's just, you told me not to do anything you know? And I know you weren't going to quit the game for me." Craig hesitated. Clyde continued. "I just wanted to hang out with you again – and drive Zaron into a darkness the likes of which the world has never seen – and since I already didn't listen to you, I needed to make sure that everything was good enough and that you'd like it before asking you to betray everyone else and join me for real."

That made sense. It also made his feelings and hopefulness return in full force.

"And being second in command to the keeper of the Stick does not come without its perks," Clyde went on, looking back at him with a grin. "I can grant you power or special abilities or whatever, too."

He could, couldn't he? Hm. Well, if Craig got to be a boss… "Can I have shadow clones?" Shadow clones would be awesome.

Clyde paused thoughtfully. "How many hats do you have?"

"Like, ten."

"Done!" Clyde declared, raising the Stick. "I'll make you immune to splash damage too."

"You can do that? Sweet."

"Of course I can, I control the universe now! This is but a taste of what I can offer!"

Mm. Taste.

"So, Feldspar! Are you ready to swear your allegiance to me, or is there anything else you desire?"

Desire…

It took a lot of willpower for Craig to keep from biting his lip. Clyde _had_ to know what he was doing, there was just no way he couldn't. Right? He couldn't be that dense. Well okay, maybe that was giving him too much credit, but he hadn't given him enough credit before with the whole vengeance thing. And anyway Clyde said it himself, in that tone that'd been as telling as his words: _he needed him_.

"There is one thing." Craig swallowed hard.

"Name it."

It wasn't too late to say 'never mind,' think this through a little more, or go back to his scheming, but he wasn't going to do any of those things. This felt too right. "A kiss."

Clyde's eyes widened and he blinked a few times. It would have been funny if it didn't hold Craig in so much suspense. "A kiss?" he repeated.

As nervous as he was, Craig wasn't the type to fidget so he just nodded.

Clyde contemplated this for what seemed like another eternity. Then, resolute, he stood from his throne. "Okay."

Craig had been bracing himself, but he didn't expect his heart to leap in his chest. No crushing rejection! So he _had_ read the moment right! Clyde liked him, just as much as he liked Clyde. Well, maybe. He liked Clyde a lot. And now…

"But dude, do you want to wait until I recruit vampire girls? They're pretty cute, and I bet a bunch would want to kiss you. The only girls in my army now are sixth graders, and I mean…"

It was as though the butterflies in his stomach had their wings torn off and plunged into a deep pit. Oh, crushing rejection. There you are.

"Yeah," Craig said, for lack of anything better to say that would keep him from expelling _himself_ from space and time in eternal humiliation. "How's that going, anyway? Recruiting the vampire kids?" he prompted quickly, because it was time for a new topic. One that would distract Clyde and keep him talking. Meanwhile he could contemplate his own misery.

How platonically did Clyde see him to not even see one of the most straightforward advances ever for what it was? Clyde wasn't exactly the brightest kid in the class, but damnit! How had that actually just happened? Should he have clarified and said 'a kiss _from you_'? God, Clyde probably would have just asked who Craig wanted to _hook him up with_. Shit.

"Great actually, thank you for asking!" Clyde wrapped his arm around the back of Craig's shoulders and gently steered him towards the doorway so they could descend the fortress together. "I've spoken with their leader. I had to get them soda and snacks – that's already taken care of," he kept his arm on Craig as they walked because obviously he wanted him to suffer, "and now I have to get a few things from Hot Topic, and drink something called clamato juice? I didn't know clamatoes had juice," he said thoughtfully. "But anyway, Hot Topic first! I'm going to the mall."

Wait. Did he hear that right? He'd been wretchedly preoccupied. "You're going to the mall?"

"Yep."

Uh. "Did you see the news? The mall's closed, it's where they're building the new Taco Bell."

"Yeah, that's why the vampire kids didn't want to go with me," Clyde frowned. "They don't want to get in trouble."

"No, I mean it's destroyed. Even if it weren't, that Hot Topic was burned down. Remember?"

"Craig, it's Hot Topic. If getting burned down and bombarded by a Taco Bell from the sky actually destroyed it it'd be too easy."

He gave up.

They fell into silence as they walked the rest of the way, and it wasn't until they reached the base of the fortress that Clyde finally let go of Craig. It helped him think a little more clearly, so he turned his mind almost forcefully to their plotting in the game. And he realized something.

"I never swore my allegiance to you, you know."

Clyde blinked. "Oh yeah. But you do, right?"

"Yeah." There was a small little part of him that almost didn't want to, but, tough. Clyde was still his best friend… even if that's all there was to it.

"Awesome," Clyde grinned. "Return to the KKK and keep the humans and elves occupied, I'll send you a tex- _missive_ when I have returned victorious."

Ah, the game. Good. He could do this. "They are occupied, my lord. Sir Douchebag has been taken by the elves and now hangs in the balance, and the grand wizard watches the ravens."

"Both factions surely do. We must keep our rise secret from all."

"I will control the skies. Word of our treachery will not be revealed until it is too late!"

"Excellent! Together we will make Zaron tremble! Haha, _AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA_!"

"Clyde, if you're going out make sure to be back for lunch!"

"Okay Dad! Hey Dad, if anyone asks Craig was never here okay!"

"I was never here," Craig confirmed, leaving a confused Mr. Donovan to watch after them as they walked through the house to the front yard.

He had a new mission now. Well, the same mission, but now he was undercover so it was totally different. It was pretty exciting too; enough to make him almost forget that the blatant yet indirect rejection even happened. Except for it did, and…

No. He wasn't going to think about that. Treachery awaited.


	3. Taco Bell Green Sauce

Did I say 4 or 5 chapters? Because, I'm pretty sure what I meant by that was like, 6 or 7, haha, ahaha... whoops...

Anyway! Thank you again to everyone who's read this far, and even followed/fav'd/reviewed, I appreciate it so much! Hopefully you enjoy chapter 3!

* * *

Even though he'd put it off in the first place, Craig didn't exactly rush to the Elven Forest. Douchebag was tough. The elves could torture him all they wanted; he wouldn't talk. Besides, Craig no longer had humanity's best interests at heart.

Which was why he was more intrigued than annoyed when he saw a completely unfazed Douchebag walk out of Stan's house, with Stan. Craig ducked behind a bush immediately to enter stealth mode before they could see him.

"I bow to you, ogre slayer. I'm glad to call you friend!" Stan declared, fiddling a bit with his iPhone. "There! Where to next? Lead the way," he said, though the phone still seemed to hold most of his attention. "I joined the goths once before, it's not too hard. Once you get the clothes- aw, sick! She put Britney Spears on here!"

Then they left, running past Kyle's house and disappearing around the corner.

Craig unstealthed. Interesting. Very interesting.

Not only did Douchebag no longer need rescuing, but he was playing with the elves now. Or was he playing both sides? He should know better. Craig chuckled darkly. This was too good.

He backtracked his way to the KKK.

"Craig's back!" Butters declared upon his arrival, causing the king and the princess to emerge from their tent. Cartman didn't look as happy to see him.

"_Without_ Sir Douchebag?"

"No, Grand Wizard. I have news. I searched everywhere for Sir Douchebag," he said dramatically, "and then finally, I found him – fighting alongside the ranger of Larnion."

"What?" Princess Kenny was beside herself. "Oh my good word!"

"Fear not for Douchebag's loyalty my lady! For I have surveyed his movements carefully, and have concluded that his elven allegiance is a ruse. I am certain he still works for us." Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn't. Craig didn't particularly care.

"Of course," Cartman said, expression turning to triumph, "if the elves think he works for _them_, he can find out where they're hiding the Stick and take it from right under their stupid pointed ears! Oh man, he's totally playing them!"

"Yes," Craig agreed, "and if we want him to succeed, we have to do our part. Elves could be anywhere now, and if we confront him about this his cover could be blown." And more importantly, he was the only one with enough information to possibly suspect that neither faction had the Stick. It wasn't something Cartman needed to know.

"I don't like it, but you're right. Everyone! We must act as if nothing has changed. If Douchebag calls on us for aid, we must be there; if not, we must keep our distance."

"Is that really what we should be doing, leaving him alone with the elves!" Tweek cried. "They manipulate minds you guys!"

That actually brought Craig to his next point. "Yes, they do. Douchebag is on our side now, but the more he hangs out with the elves, the riskier it is. They are sneaky rats, after all." Cartman nodded approvingly. Craig went on. "I have been able to avoid their notice, so I will continue to track Douchebag in secret and do what I can to protect him from their influence."

Cartman thought about this, then nodded again. "Very well, Craig. And Craig," he added once the thief turned away, "I was worried about you, especially since we banished Clyde, but you've really come through for us. So I guess… I'm sorry, I'm sorry – what I'm trying to say is," he smiled, "maybe you're not as much of a dildo as we all thought."

Craig kept walking. Betraying this bastard was going to make him _so_ happy.

* * *

When Craig saw Clyde again he expected it to be gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, and all in all painful. What he didn't expect was to see him on the sidewalk, rolling a large orange bin, dressed in…

"Craig," Clyde's eyes widened in horror, "Craig it's not- I can explain-"

"Nice fangs."

"I already told you I have to recruit the vampire kids, and like-"

"I like the black hair, too. It really goes with the cape."

"Hot Topic has a really big selection-"

"That thing on your eyebrow real?"

"NO! Are you kidding me, my dad would never let me-"

"H-Hold on," Craig interrupted again because he was closer now, "is that…?"

"It's… not eye shadow, _per se-_"

That was it. Craig lost it. He started laughing really, really hard, to the point where his sides started to hurt, but he didn't care; this was awesome.

"Are you done?" Clyde crossed his arms, which only encouraged Craig to laugh even more at his expense, and not just because of the fishnet gloves.

"It's just," Craig managed after he got most of it out of his system, "it's so _douchey_."

"Screw you!"

"You're never going to screw anything looking like that," he snickered.

"ARGH!" Clyde yelled out before he leaned on his canister, burying his flushed face in his arms against the metal. "Do I really look that bad?" he asked in a mutter. "I thought for sure this would get me in with the vampire kids, but if I just look like some idiot…" he trailed off, frowning.

"What? No," Craig shook his head, though he couldn't manage to stop grinning just yet. God, he looked so _angsty_. "I'm saying that you couldn't look more vampire kid if you tried."

"You mean it?" He looked up, hopeful. "Thanks, Craig."

"It's not a compliment," he replied cheerfully before his eyes drifted to the canister. "So what's that?"

"Oh my god Craig," Clyde said with sudden energy as he immediately straightened up. His self-consciousness about the douchey vampire getup was all at once forgotten. "The new Taco Bell construction site – you won't believe – _guess_ what I found, Craig!"

Craig raised an eyebrow and motioned to the container. "That?"

"Yeah but _guess what it is_!"

"No."

"It's taco sauce that raises the dead!"

"…Get out."

"No, I'm serious! I'll show you! Just- hey actually, can you roll this to my backyard? I still have to talk to Vampir but then I can show you what I mean and you can help me make a ruler of darkness video and we can raise an army of the dead, unless it blows your cover anyway, because we're still plotting and secretive and being as inconspicuous as possible is seriously our top priority right now." He took a moment after his ramble to step away from the large bin of hazard material and adjust his vampire cape.

"My cover's all taken care of," Craig said, eyeing the canister skeptically before turning to look at Clyde. "I can do that. Just, one question first. Are you team Edward, or team Jacob?"

"Bite me!" Clyde exclaimed as he shoved the canister towards him, though this time he grinned too. "Thanks man, I'll see you back at my house okay!" He gave Craig one last smile before he took off into the day.

Craig snickered as he waved his farewell to vampire Clyde. He was such an endearing dork sometimes; could anyone blame Craig for loving him?

That sudden, dangerous thought froze his mind to a screeching halt. He felt a weird ache in his chest which he vaguely surmised could be his heart. Damnit. Rejection ought to detach you from a person, not bring on revelations that keep calling the whole futile thing into question. Did he seriously feel that way? As a friend, yeah, but as more…?

Craig struggled with this for a few minutes before scoffing in frustration. Fuck it all, it was over; it's done. He'd already went for it, kind of, and from all the different ways it could have gone, the reality was much better than it could have been. Clyde couldn't see a brick if it hit him in the face, and it saved their friendship. Craig should be happy, and he was – and wasn't, but that didn't matter.

Setting his hands on the vat of Taco Bell sauce Craig resumed the task of rolling it to Clyde's house, keeping a careful watch all around him as he did. He was a master of stealth, but having an over-encumbered inventory reduced his thief abilities by at least fifty percent.

Luckily he didn't come across any humans, and the pair of elves he encountered he backstabbed easily enough. The only other obstacle was on the turn just before their street: a dead cat, in the middle if the sidewalk. It looked recent.

Craig frowned. He liked animals. How had this happened? He approached the cat and knelt down to lift it gently. He didn't know what to do with it from there, all he knew is that he didn't want to run it over with the vat of taco sauce that allegedly raised the- …dead…

He looked down at the poor kitty, then over to his vat. Well, it was worth a shot. He set the cat down next to it and then carefully pried at the lid so some of the contents would leak out.

When the green sauce spilled onto the cat, its eyes opened slowly. "Mrow… Mreowww… _SIEG HEIL_!"

Holy shit.

_CATS RECRUITED (1/5)_

Craig pounded the lid shut to stop the leak. Yep. New Taco Bell sauce raised the dead. "C'mon kitty, I brought you back so you're in the Army of Darkness now." The arrangement seemed to work out just fine, and Craig's new companion followed him all the way back.

* * *

The next cat Craig found, Clyde brought back to life in his ruler of darkness video.

Everything was coming together. The sixth graders completed the finishing touches on the fortress, the vampire kids had sworn allegiance, and now they had everything they needed to raise an additional army of the dead to add to their already overwhelming forces. All the while, the humans and elves were too involved with each other to suspect a thing. Craig closed Twitter and grabbed Clyde's laptop.

"Last chance to redo," he offered.

"Nah, we only had the one cat to bring back," Clyde said, watching said cat goose step around the throne room while he ate a sandwich.

Craig opened the laptop to make sure that everything was set up right, and to watch the video again.

"It's good right?" Clyde looked over as it played. "I figure I'm pretty pissed off, and having an undead army makes me way more evil so I probably want to just literally destroy everything," he mused.

"Yeah, it's cool," Craig agreed, closing the laptop once the video finished. "Fuck the world."

"Cool!" Clyde shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth before he stood and grabbed the Stick, gesturing to Craig as he strolled to the balcony. Craig tucked the laptop securely under his left arm, and went to join Clyde on his right.

"My army still grows, but everything is in place," Clyde said, eyes shifting to him. "There is but one thing remaining. Do you know your task?"

"Indeed," Craig said with a smirk. "When the night is through they will no longer know me as Feldspar their beloved thief, but as my true identity: Craig, the dark lord's chief assassin!"

"Dude, that's so awesome," Clyde said in an earnest whisper, nudging his shoulder.

"I know," Craig replied, before he cleared his throat and pulled away. "Watch for my raven, Lord. And be ready."

* * *

_CHECK MY LOCKER_

Craig stepped back from Clyde's desk, admiring his handiwork. Yes, that'll do nicely. Now it was just a simple matter of sneaking back out of the classroom, through the halls, out the front door—and straight back in, because shit, was that Douchebag? What was he doing here?

Carefully Craig nudged the door open again, just enough to watch him and his new buddy Stan disappear around the side of the school. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Deciding that stalking Douchebag was what Craig was supposed to be up to anyway, he crept closer to the edge of the building. He didn't need to look; only listen.

"…but can you dance goth?"

Music started, and Craig relaxed. They weren't here to interfere, just recruit. Heh, four goth kids were nothing compared to a vampire army. Craig smirked a little at the thought of their impending doom, but kept silent.

"Woah."

"Apathy combo."

"All right New Kid, you've officially proven yourself."

"Yeah," there was a sigh. "Just tell us where you need us and we'll be there."

"Come, New Kid," Stan's cheerful voice cut through the gloom, "let us return to the Elven Kingdom!"

Sticking with the elves, huh? Well, that worked for Craig. He fled the scene quickly. There was just one thing left to do before he returned to the KKK, and so he turned to his new Twitter accounts.

_Hey guys I had to do chores all morning, the elves are still winning right? Is the Stick still safe in our king's desk at school?_

One down.

_How many elfs does it take to find the stick of truth? NONE cuz its still in the grand wizards desk LOL #gofuckyoursELVES #KKKsupremacy_

None to go.

* * *

"What do you mean he changed sides?! Goddamnit Craig, your whole job was to keep that from happening! How did it happen!"

"The elves are skilled manipulators, Grand Wizard, especially when they have the Stick of Truth. Douchebag knows who his true friends are, he has just lost his way. We must fight him now, yes, but we must also remind him! There is hope yet."

"Well this is great, this is just fucking great! Who's supposed to be our hero now, _Tweek_?!"

"Aah!" the blonde boy shrieked.

Cartman rolled his eyes and looked around critically before getting even angrier. "Where is-"

"Eric! ERIC!" Butters ran in with all urgency, "we know where the elves are hiding the Stick!"

"What! Really!?" Cartman gasped.

While the rest of the humans gathered around, Craig slipped into the back row.

"We just intercepted their messages on Twitter!"

"You mean you_ shot down their message raven_," Cartman glowered.

"R-right – we shot down their raven – and the evil elf king has hidden the Stick inside his desk at school!"

"Of course… Kyle hid it in his desk! Citizens of Kupa Keep," he rallied, "we know where the elves are hiding the Stick! I told you they were cheating. Now we will march on the school, and make the hallways drip with elven blood!"

"HUZZAH!" Craig cheered with the others.

"And Butters!"

"Y-yes Eric?"

"Good job bringing this to me. Looks like _some_ of us can be useful," Cartman said, flashing a quick glare to Craig in particular. "You knew Douchebag the best out of all of us – his strengths; his weaknesses – so you're going to have to fight him."

"Fight him?!" Butters repeated, alarmed. "But Eric, Sir Douchebag is my friend! I don't wanna fight him!"

"Well if you two were such great buddies then where is he right now?"

Butters shuffled, uncomfortable. "Hangin' out with the elves, I s'pose…"

"That's what I thought." Cartman pointed his staff at him. "We need him back. It is vital!"

"W-Well what about Princess Kenny?"

"Oh please, we both know she's not _that_ pretty."

"Fuck you fat boy, I'm the fairest maiden in all the land." She emphasized this point by snapping up her middle finger and twirling her hair.

Cartman scowled irritably before refocusing on the paladin. "It has to be you, Butters. Convince him to return to the light, or kick his fucking ass trying. GENTLEMEN!" he turned once again to address the crowd, "TO THE SCHOOL!"

"HUZZAH!" They all cheered again, but this time, Craig didn't join them. He only smirked.


	4. Come and Get It, Losers

Check it, a slightly quicker update to wrap up day two! As usual you guys are awesome, thank you for the feedback and encouragement! I'm glad you've enjoyed reading this silly thing as much as I've been enjoying writing it. Hope you like this one!

* * *

The humans hadn't been at the school for long before their war horn sounded.

"Fuck! The elves!" Cartman spat tensely, while Craig relaxed. The elves sure took their sweet time in getting here. Well, okay – truthfully it'd only been a couple of minutes, but that's all it would have taken for Cartman to run to the fourth grade classroom and see what was what. Fortunately, Craig was able to convince him it was more important to take control of the intercom first.

"Attention, Elf King! The building has been fortified, and the armies of Christ shall never surrender! You will all die in this place." Cartman switched off the button after his announcement and turned to the rest of them. "There, that should intimidate them while we seize the Stick. They can't get the chance to defend it. Warriors three, keep the office secure! Butters, Kenny, let's go-"

"Wait!" Craig interrupted, holding out a hand in front of the door out.

"Damnit Craig, what is it this time!"

"Think about it! The elves hid the Stick in Kyle's desk, but not one of them is here to defend it? Isn't that a little convenient?"

Cartman's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying that the elves seem pretty confident. They cheated once; it probably doesn't stop there. Who knows what kind of traps they have set up, waiting for us in just in case? You _can't_ just go in there. We need to send someone who can detect traps, and disable them."

"We'd need your thief skills again…" Cartman said thoughtfully as he caught on, rubbing his chins. "An excellent point Feldspar, there's just one thing." His eyes narrowed further in a piercing suspicion that gave Craig immediate apprehension. This couldn't be good. "Why are you being this cool? You're _never_ this cool." Okay, yeah, Cartman had him there. Now that he'd been called out, Butters, Kenny, Token, and Tweek all turned on Craig too, each with varying degrees of skepticism.

"I know," Craig said with a slow sigh, stalling while his mind raced. He had to diffuse the suspicion, and fast. There was a phrase that Cartman and his friends used in situations like this, and Craig didn't know if he could get it to work for him, but it seemed like his best bet right now so he'd have to wing it.

"But you know, I learned something today." Was that music? Oh goddamnit, but it was too late now; he was committed. "Through all the adventures we share, and all the games like this one, you can either play, or you can be an asshole. And me? Well, I've always been an asshole, and a really crappy friend." Were they buying this shit? It seemed like it. Better keep going. "But don't you see? Friendship means learning how to sumo wrestle to prove how tough you are when you really don't care; it means giving people your birthday money so you can go to Peru and save the world. It even means busting each other out of detention," he smiled fondly for a moment, then put on a more solemn frown. "I was supposed to be a better friend, to you guys and to Douchebag. Instead he got manipulated, and I screwed that all up. I'd like to make up for that now if you'd let me, because that's what true friendship is really all about." Craig doubted he could have spewed more crap if he shoved food up his ass.

It must have worked though, because Cartman responded with a rare, earnest smile. "Yeah."

Princess Kenny stepped forward. "Your words are pure, and have touched us all," she said, wholly won over. "However," she looked away, focusing on what would probably be some distant point on the horizon if the office wasn't so small, "I fear for your chances. A thief is no hero," she said solemnly. "Unless Douchebag chose to be a thief?" she added in a quieter aside to Butters, eyebrows wrinkling.

"You don't remember Sir Douchebag's class?" the paladin replied, admonishing. "Why, you ought to pay more attention."

She just shrugged. "Every time we fight together he's accidentally killed me. So what is he?"

"A _bastard_!" Butters declared at once, grabbing the intercom microphone from the desk. "Douchebag, it's me, Paladin Butters – your friend!" he said heatedly. "Don't be on Kyle's team! He may have cooler people on his side, and a better base, and sometimes they have piñata parties, I-" he frowned as his impulsiveness seemed to catch up to him and he lost all of his fire. "I should probably just stop talking."

"Dumbass, is that what you call convincing?" Cartman scowled, snatching the microphone away. "Back to the matter at hand – Lady McCormick is right. It's dangerous for him to go alone. Take a buddy," he decided, turning back to Craig. "You've unlocked Tweek and Token. Congratulations."

Craig considered arguing this, but he wouldn't push his luck. He looked between the barbarian and the cleric. He liked them both just fine, but the last thing he needed right now was more suspicion, even if it was based on paranoia. "Token. Come on." He turned and left the office, and Token followed.

The hallways were empty besides some humans, who looked to the pair of them inquisitively. "The elves are coming. You guys, head down the hall then split up to make more barricades to slow their progress. You two stay here and guard," Craig ordered. The humans looked at each other hesitantly, but after a sharp look from the thief were quick to scurry off to their new tasks.

Satisfied, Craig turned down the hall in the opposite direction. A short trek later and it was just him and Token, nearing their classroom area without the slightest sign of interference.

"We should go down here and set up a barricade in this hall too," Craig said, gesturing to an upcoming corner. "If the elves get through here right away, I won't have time to check for traps around the classroom."

"Uh-huh," Token said. "Why do you keep delaying Cartman?"

Craig paused. "I'm not delaying Cartman."

"First we were going to go straight to the classroom, but you convinced him to take the office instead. Then they were going to go the classroom themselves, but you made a speech about friendship so they'd send you. Now we're on our way to the classroom, but you still don't want to go; you want our people to make more barricades, when it's obviously the least useful thing any of us could be doing right now. So, why?"

Shit. He should have brought Tweek. "It's not sabotage, Token, it's tactical. If we make the school our fortress while proceeding with caution…" Damnit, he had nothing. "Look I know what I'm doing, just drop it okay?"

"Okay." That easy? Thank- "How's Clyde?" Fuck.

"I told you to drop it."

"So it is related."

…Son of a bitch. "I didn't say that."

"And I never said sabotage," Token said pointedly. …Son of a bitch! This time Craig stopped completely, turning to face Token.

"But now it makes more sense," Token continued. The smug jerk didn't even look like he was putting the pieces together, he looked like everything had just all clicked and he was reporting his findings. "You weren't mad or anything when Cartman kicked him out."

"You're right. I'm usually sooo expressive."

"Which wouldn't have been surprising really, but instead you got way more into the game. It was weird, until you gave yourself away just now. I don't think you'd betray us for the elves – Kyle's killed you a bunch – but if you're planning something with Clyde? Yeah, that makes sense." Token looked back to Craig for confirmation, and by the cleric's small nod, he seemed to have gotten it from his face.

Craig didn't know whether to be mad at Token or himself. He decided to go with Token. As for himself – well, he could fix this. His expression turned cold.

"You're a smart guy, Token." Craig advanced slowly, drawing the weapon from his belt. He didn't bother with subtly, not this time. "You know what happens now."

"Craig, wait," Token finally had the decency to look alarmed as he took a few steps back, like he didn't see this coming. He clumsily grasped for his weapon.

"It's true. I've been working for Clyde since this morning. He's a dark lord now, you know." Craig was a courteous villain. He would fill in the blanks. "The game is changing, Token." He lifted his dagger for idle inspection, sliding his fingers against the edge. "The world is changing. The humans, the elves; they're so wrapped up in their war that they don't even see it. The hour of reckoning is at hand, and you? You're too late." He looked up sharply. Token's eyes had gone wide and he'd backed himself against a wall, clutching his bass guitar defensively. It wouldn't help.

"Craig-"

"You'll never be able to warn the humans in time. You'll be dead." He paused. "And we both know it's in the rules that when you're killed you have to stay dead for at least ten minutes, or until another kid heals or revives you, and if you don't that's cheating," he said starkly before clearing his throat and returning to his offensive stance. "I can't say that it hasn't been a pleasure, but this is the end. Goodbye, Token." Craig moved in with his dagger to strike, and the thunder of combat erupted in a quick flash.

Just, not in the way he expected.

A rigid pain in his back sent him crumpling to the floor on his knees, quickly joined by a hand to steady himself from slumping completely. "Eughh…"

"Craig, _look out_!"

It was Token's voice. The warning wasn't too late, but Craig's reaction was. What he was supposed to be looking out for came in the form of swift, hard strikes that pummeled him without mercy.

"Quit it!" Craig snapped, fighting through the daze to turn his head and see what was getting his health as dangerously low as it now was. "G-Ginger hallway monitors?"

"I tried warning you!" Bass guitar chords rang through the hall as Token used it to block the ruler of the third attacking ginger. "But _someone_ had to monologue," _block_, "like all the worst bad guys," _block_, "ever!" _Counter-attack_!

"S-Shut up," Craig groaned. Well it was going to have worked when he killed him! Best and worst were on a different scale than coolest to lamest, seriously. And he was starting to get how villains could still be surprised when their plans failed right after their evil expositions. Everything was going all fine and according to plan a second ago, but now he didn't even know if he could live long enough to so much as-

"Heads up!"

Craig looked up just in time to see a large health potion flying at him before he caught it, stunned.

"Will you hurry, dude?" Token urged, going back to rummaging through his pockets. "Something isn't right with these guys."

Craig was compliant, eating quickly and giving the potion a second to restore his health before he stood and turned to face their enemies. There were three of them: two with rulers and small shields, and one with a large T-square. There was something up with their skin, which was saying something because ginger kids always looked pale and sickly, just not so green. Craig couldn't shake the familiarity here, and a glance to the bands on their arms all but confirmed it.

"They're back from the dead," Craig supplied, brushing himself off.

"Really? How did you- never mind. Hope this still works!" Token held out his hands, each of which now holding a thick wad of cash. He held them each in a small bridge between his thumb and fingers, tightening the space until the arcs of bills were repulsed out and sent fluttering down to _**Make it Rain!**_ over their enemies.

It did work. The three zombie ginger hallway monitors grabbed up for the money, and subsequently suffered _**Defense Down**_ in their distraction. At the same time both Token and Craig got _**Attack Up**_, because that's how the wealth gap worked.

Now it was Craig's turn. "This doesn't change anything," he told Token as he stared down the ginger in front of him and flipped him _**The Bird**_. The hallway monitor clenched his teeth, completely _**PISSED OFF**_. "I still can't let you tell Cartman the truth."

"Dude, I'm not going to," Token said. Craig glared at him briefly before turning his glare on the larger ginger with the T-square in the back row.

"I don't believe you," Craig told Token shortly, though he remained focused on the ginger, unblinking. Then his eyes resonated with a blue so intense that a magical glow shot out from them in a pair of solid, sizzling beams that burned into his enemy. "_Okay, now there's sparks shooting out of my eyes_." The beams hit the ginger in front of him too, the double-strike effectively sundering his shield. The T-square ginger in the back row fell completely. When the sparks faded Craig concluded his _**Incan Savior**_ ability with a sigh, like always.

"Why? If you haven't noticed, I usually just go with things."

Token had a point that Craig tried to consider, but it was the enemies' turn now and he was busy blocking all of the pissed off ginger's attacks and delivering a swift counter. The other remaining ginger attacked him too, but where Craig expected the ruler, he got teeth. What the _fuck_. He groaned and clutched his stomach, ready to throw up.

Token took a swig of a small power potion before getting out a sleek black pen and a checkbook. He started scribbling, and by the power of _**Health Insurance**_, Craig was cured of his gingivitis and fully restored.

"You're a good healer," Craig said gratefully.

"You're an awful tank."

Craig sighed again. He didn't have any PP left, but that was fine. He had coffee. Giving his mental regards to Tweek, Craig downed it and immediately raised his dagger to the ginger that still had his shield. With one swift hit he tore through his lunch tray, and he used the other two to finish him off with perfect strikes. The last ginger standing had no more shields, so killing him off wasn't so much a challenge as it was good housekeeping.

"All right!" Token grinned in victory, before quickly sobering and stepping away from the battle to face Craig. "You're not seriously going to kill me, are you?" he asked cautiously.

Craig frowned. He didn't know. "You saw through my evil plans and made fun of my monologue."

"I didn't think you'd be so upset," Token said, genuinely surprised. "You're really having fun, aren't you?"

He paused to consider this. "I guess I am, yeah."

"Well I won't say anything, I promise. You really don't have to fight me. Anyway, I'm the one who's _your_ buddy. If you're that worried, just get me out of the way by ordering me to go fight elves or something."

He didn't get it. Was Token even mad that he intended to make him the first casualty a minute ago? Because he was starting to feel bad about it. God, he was black, even. Token was an honest guy and Craig was inclined to believe him, but he still knew too much. This was complicated… but- wait. Maybe it didn't have to be? "Join us."

"No thanks," Token declined politely, much to Craig's surprise. "I don't really want to be a traitor – no offense," he added quickly. "Or the hero that stands up to one, or the martyr that dies first, if that's okay. I'm happy where I'm at. Besides, three's a crowd, isn't it?"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Token's reply was cut off by the Grand Wizard on the intercom. "Douchebag, if you're listening, I know you've been tricked. But I forgive you. Join me again, and together we will rule the land as master and slave!"

Maybe it was Cartman's announcement but Craig found himself suddenly noticing all the clamor around them, the fighting between elves and humans noticeably louder. Nearer. He looked back to Token, who regarded him calmly yet with just a bit of hesitance.

"Come on," he instructed. Token smiled then and followed him back down the hall they'd come from, taking a detour away from the office and closer to the battle. Kids were fighting neck in neck as more elves poured in and tore at the barricades. Craig smirked. Perfect. This was the level of conflict he'd been waiting for.

"Token, join them at the barricade. Don't let any elf pass! I will inform the grand wizard that it is now safe to retrieve the Stick."

"I will do what I must," Token said solemnly, stepping forward. "Good luck." He raised his bass guitar and disappeared into the fray. Craig nodded to himself. It was the right decision; a life for a life. Things might be different later, but for now, he doubled back to the office.

"Finally!" Cartman said upon his arrival. It was just him and Princess Kenny now. "Where is Token?"

"Fighting the elves. We were nearly overwhelmed. Where's Tweek and Butters?"

"Tweek also fights the elven forces, and Butters left to confront Douchebag," Princess Kenny said. "He advances quickly. Have you reached the classroom, Feldspar? Is it safe?"

"It wasn't, but it is now."

"Excellent," Cartman said, lifting up the microphone one last time. "Dude Douchebag, this is gonna be so sweet when you double-cross Kyle at the last minute huh? Am I right? High five!"

Funny; Craig couldn't agree more.

"Time is of the essence. To the classroom!" Cartman took lead. They picked up a few other available human warriors along the way, but all the while, Craig stayed back.

"I'll keep watch," Craig said once they reached the classroom, and the others hurried inside. He could only hope now that he'd stalled the humans long enough and that the elves would catch-

"Fatass is in there with the Stick. Commander Douchebag, lead us to victory!" That was Kyle's voice right around the corner, and his timing could not have been more perfect.

Craig disappeared then, making haste to the Fortress of Darkness. The scene in the classroom didn't matter, only the thrilling conclusion.

* * *

"Army of Darkness, defend the fortress!"

Craig looked up from petting his newest feline recruit and stood, adjusting his cloak. That was his cue. The chief assassin stepped out onto the balcony at Clyde's side, looking down calmly as the six boys looked up in horror at their debut.

"Craig…? Craig you're on my side!" Cartman yelled.

"You don't have authority anymore, the keeper of the Stick said so."

"But," it was entertaining, watching Cartman's wide eyes process the betrayal. "But you learned something today, Craig!"

Craig smiled, icy and cruel. "I lied."

The gasps and stunned faces were every bit as satisfying as he'd hoped.

"This can't be happening," Kyle said in shock and disbelief.

But it was, and it was _fantastic_.

Clyde smirked. "Sorry warriors and wizards! I'd love to invite you in to my Fortress of Darkness, but I'm afraid you're _too late_!"

"Too late? What do you mean we're too late?" Stan inquired, though his question was answered by the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Stotch.

"_There_ you are Butters! Do you know what time it is mister? It is _way_ past your bedtime!"

"Oh shit, it's past our bedtime?!"

Cartman and the others panicked and dispersed, while Clyde cackled and Craig grinned – for it may be past their bedtimes as well, but tonight, darkness triumphed.

* * *

And thus concludes day two! What do you think so far? Not much on the Cryde front this time, I know, but don't you worry. There's a whole day three for that... Thank you for reading!


	5. Beast Whisperer

Finally. I swear I wanted to have this one up like a week ago... alas. Sorry for the delay! And thank you for the reviews! Seriously, you have no idea how much I appreciate your comments. Yeah, the fight scene was definitely my favorite part to write last chapter. Hopefully this chapter proves that Craig and Clyde deserve each other, because they're both idiots.

Please enjoy!

* * *

On the dawn of the third day, Craig woke to the repeated buzzing of his phone on his night stand. He was ready to curse out whoever was calling him this early, but instead of a phone call he found a series of rapid-fire texts.

_r u awake?_

_need u_

_bring hats k_

Craig didn't know whether to sigh or to scowl. He wound up yawning, and texted back.

_I'm awake now. Thanks for that._

Granted, he was the one who forgot to put his phone on silent, but still… why wasn't the text icon disappearing? Craig backed out of his conversation with Clyde and sure enough, he had another unread message. It was sent about twenty minutes earlier from Cartman.

_You're a fucking traitor, Craig. We're coming for you._

Craig smiled contently at the screen while his phone buzzed twice more, suddenly not minding the rude awakening. It was a good day.

_opps! sry :( :( _

_redy 2 make it up 2 u tho ;)_

...Or was it. He stared at the winky face for entirely too long before shaking his head. It was probably supposed to be a colon, or Clyde was just being his usual self. Seriously, he was never one to think too much about his words, actions, or even texts, and Craig needed to stop reading into them. What he _did_ need to do was help conquer the land of Zaron, so with that in mind he got ready, dug up a box of extra hats, and went next door.

He vaguely wondered if anything would be different today, now that he had his official elevated status and new base. When he stepped into Clyde's backyard, he was far from disappointed. Vampires and sixth graders alike hailed him and cleared a path. Even one of the undead cats greeted him reverently with a brush against his legs. This in particular shouldn't make him feel powerful, but it did.

"You," he said to a nearby older boy with an eye taped to his forehead, "carry this for me."

"Yes sir, right away." The cyclops relieved Craig of the box and followed him dutifully as he scaled the fortress. Yeah, it'd be a good day. Everything he'd worked for had finally come to fruition, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it, even – no, especially – any of his mixed up feelings about Clyde. Today was for hanging out and conquering stuff, plain and simple.

So with that decided, Craig solidified his resolve and entered the throne room.

"Hey," Clyde greeted slyly, "what's goin' on?"

…That was a very good question.

"Hi Clyde," he said uncertainly as the cyclops set down the box and left them. Clyde's smile only grew as he lounged against his throne, thoroughly satisfied. Was this seriously how he responded to victory? It was like he'd been voted cutest boy all over again. Not that Craig disagreed with the assessment, but it made Clyde utterly unbearable at the time.

"Hey," Clyde said again. "So how's your day goin'?"

Kind of like how he was starting to be now. "Quit it. We just executed the greatest betrayal in the history of Zaron and that's awesome, but they're still going to try to get the Stick back. You can't be all smug when we need to prepare."

Clyde didn't seem to get it right away, but when he did, he deflated. "Oh."

Craig felt a small pang of guilt, but suppressed it. They were _friends_, and aside from that that, he was his chief assassin right now. He didn't have to be all sensitive just because Clyde was; he was terrible at it anyway. Maybe it was a good thing that they would never-

No, none of that. He was focusing on the game today.

"I have been, you know. Preparing," Clyde clarified, getting down from his throne. He led Craig over to a craft table that held a small collection of art supplies along with a notepad, a few cyclops eyes, and a whole bunch of round emblems. "See? I made a rulebook," he said proudly. Craig was already picking it up and flipping through it. It began at '_Dark Lord Clyde rules all_' and ended with '_Cartman eats shit_.'

"It's good," Craig said with an approving nod.

"Good! I made these for everyone too – here!" He grabbed an emblem that was clearly set aside from the others and fixed a piece of double-sided tape to the back before rounding on Craig. Craig waited for the personal space invasion, but this time, it never came. Instead Clyde stopped abruptly short of it, and after a moment slowly held the emblem out to him instead. "Um, here."

"…Thanks." Craig ought to be relieved, but he couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment.

"Do you like it?" Clyde asked, prompting Craig to refocus and actually look at what he'd been given. The emblem was black with the white circled skull of their banners, and had a red ring around the outer edge. It was almost identical to the ones stacked on the table, the 'almost' being because unless Craig was mistaken, his was a bit neater than the rest.

"Yeah," Craig said, brushing his thumb over the symbol. "You made all of these?"

"Yep," Clyde said with carefully constructed nonchalance. "Figured my evil minions should get something all cool and unifying and stuff for pledging their allegiance to me. Obviously my chief assassin gets his first."

"Obviously." Craig put down the rulebook stuck his emblem just below his shoulder so he could tug down his cloak a little to cover it in combat. He already decided he wanted to keep it after the game, and he didn't want it ruined.

"And you saw the rules about your boss powers and immunities?"

"Yes. So I'll get my shadow clones soon?" Craig glanced back at his hat box.

"I promise," Clyde nodded. "And then there's that other thing you asked for..."

Craig froze. Somehow, against all reason he'd convinced himself that the whole kiss thing just wouldn't come up again and they'd both safely pretend it never even happened. No such luck of course, because here it was, coming back to bite him in the form of some vampire chick Clyde probably already had picked out and everything.

Well, forget it. That was yesterday's grave, and there was no way he'd lie in it today. "I don't want that anymore."

"Wha- you don't?"

"No. I thought it would work out – like, for my character – but it doesn't." There. Perfect.

"But-"

"At all," Craig interrupted quickly. "Besides, there's something else I want instead." There wasn't, but since he needed to steer them away from this conversation forever he went with the first thing that popped into his head. "Animals."

"…_What_?!" Clyde's expression was a mix of unbridled horror and disbelief.

"Animals," Craig repeated. "You know, formidable allies that I can take into battle with me? Like cows, or," what else did South Park have? "Cows."

Clyde let out a relieved sigh. "Okay," he said, though he still seemed dispirited. What was up with him today? Before Craig could decide whether or not to ask, Clyde continued. "If you can go get them, I'll have the army make space for them here. I'd come with you, but I need to go to the graveyard with Vampir and the others."

"You couldn't do that last night?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"I was going to! But you know how the vampires are; they didn't want to-"

"-get in trouble, yeah," he finished. He didn't like it, but it did make sense.

Clyde nodded with an apologetic smile. "Don't worry, though. Naturally you have all the resources of the army at your evil disposal, including any henchmen you want to bring to help out."

"That's okay," Craig decided. "It's nothing a level thirteen thief can't handle."

* * *

The easier route was to take the sidewalk all the way down and head north at the railroad, but that would take him past the Zaron and Larnion territories. Even with their kingdom's abolished, both ex-factions were bound to be pretty pissed so Craig tried a more evasive route to the farm by heading northeast through the markets.

He had nearly arrived when he came across a horde of rats ravaging a cat. "Hey!" he shouted as he picked up speed, trying to scare them off, but the rats didn't seem to be bothered. At least not at first, because they did scurry away before he reached them. Craig found out a moment later that that was because the cat was no longer moving.

"Fucking rats," he muttered, pulling out one of his many refilled vials of Taco Bell sauce. It would make it all okay. "Want revenge?" he asked the cat as it slowly reanimated.

"_DURCH EURE SCHULE_!"

"Thought so." Craig took to a run after the rat horde, cat minion quick on his heels. The pursuit took them to the U-Stor-It and the muffled screams of a dying princess trying to shake them off.

Craig paused, more out of surprise than any sort of malice, but resumed the counter-assault when his cat minion charged fearlessly forward. It only took moments for him to slay the horde of murderous vermin, and save the princess to boot. For his first day of being openly evil, it was all very heroic.

"You saved me!"

"Not on purpose."

She broke character to glare. "God, Craig, are you ever _not_ an asshole?"

"Well excuse me, Princess. Going to do something about it? I don't see your army," he challenged, taking out another vial of Taco Bell sauce in the meantime. Hopefully a bit of necromancy would make up for the heroism. Besides, who was he to waste perfectly good dead rats?

Princess Kenny watched this reanimation silently. Craig's cat minion hissed, displeased, but the rats stayed in line and stood at attention, much to his approval.

"Want to know where they are?" Princess Kenny then asked, almost casually. "What they're planning?" There was something undeniably conspiratorial to her tone that got Craig's attention. It takes one to know one, after all, and suddenly Lady McCormick wasn't so easy to dismiss.

"Whatever it is I'm not falling for it," he said carefully.

Princess Kenny chuckled and twirled her hair. "There is nothing to fall for, traitor." The designation didn't sting; it wasn't meant to. "I offer only truth. Think of it as an exchange, should you like."

"And what could you possibly want from me."

"Well," she pretended to think, "do you have any more of that?"

Craig followed her eyes to the empty vial in his hand. "No way. Undead minions are _our_ thing," he said harshly.

"How fortunate, then, that I'm not interested in that."

"Uh huh. Then what do you want it for?"

"Maybe I'm having tacos later."

"Fine, you don't have to tell me, but you don't have to get anything from me either. Find your own." He turned to leave.

"Wait. The remaining factions have formed an alliance to destroy you."

Craig snorted. "Is that all?" He'd suspected as much anyway, and he wasn't impressed.

"We mean to recruit the pirates."

"Kindergarteners. Terrifying."

"The Federation."

"Isn't that just Kevin?"

"The girls."

He paused. "No way. You can't get girls to do this."

"Maybe not me," she said slyly, "but what about Douchebag?"

…Shit.

She had him there, and she knew it. "He's in the abortion clinic for them right now, you know, finding out who the two-faced bitch is. I bet you anything it's that slut Rodriguez," she mused, idly admiring her nails.

Okay. So they were probably going to get the girls. Craig considered the Army of Darkness and concluded that with the new recruitment efforts they'd be just fine, but still, it was good to know. "And instead of helping them, you're here helping the enemy."

"_Something_ like that," she winked. "It'll be our little secret. So?"

After a moment of consideration, Craig pulled out a full vial of green sauce and handed it to her. He didn't care what she did with it. Besides, it's not like Clyde had the monopoly; if she wanted it that badly, she'd find a way to get it regardless. Maybe that was what she was doing out here in the first place.

"You have my thanks," she said graciously.

"Whatever." He would keep this meeting in mind, but whatever Princess Kenny was planning, he really didn't think it involved him so he really didn't care. He had stuff to do.

"Wait," she said, stopping him yet again and moving closer. "You saved my life, dear traitor. Please accept this token of my royal gratitude."

Oh, crap. "Don't-" he started, but it was too late; she leaned in to kiss Craig on the cheek, and he in turn promptly buckled and lost the contents of his stomach. "H-Hate you…"

"Teeheehee."

Princess Kenny skipped off, leaving Craig to unsteadily drag himself further down the street as he tried not to retch again. He failed on two counts. Trying to keep his animal minions from_ eating it_ was half the battle – and did absolutely nothing for how grossed out he still was when he reached the hobo he was looking for.

"I'll give you a good price… uh… just take it," he wisely handed Craig a cure potion before he had the chance to throw up over his wigs.

"Thanks," Craig managed, feeling better once that was out of his system. He got a small health potion there too, snacking on it to restore his energy as he headed up to the farm.

Fucking Princess Kenny. She was lucky Craig hated Cartman more than her.

Nazifying cows proved to be quite easy when Craig found three of them dead. He supposed he hadn't considered what he would do if they weren't. Regardless, it all worked out, and he left the farm just minutes after his arrival with a small army of a cat, rats, and now cows in tow.

"Stay with the rest of the army when we get to the fortress," he told them as they reached the marketplace on the way back. "You'll like it, Clyde has the coolest base. He is a dark and terrible master- hey, stop!" he snapped at the rats as the group began to scurry ahead. They didn't listen, focusing instead on getting to – another cat?

"_HALT_!" Craig demanded. That did the trick. "You guys are officially demoted from minions to slaves," he told the rats sternly as he stomped past them to see what the fuss was about. It turned out that it _was_ a cat – a living one.

"Mrow?" It innocently flicked its tail.

"Sorry, kitty. The Army of Darkness only accepts creatures of the dead," he explained.

"Mrow…"

Craig hesitated. Thinking about it, most of the animals he had seen at this point – smaller ones especially – had been killed in one way or another. What were the odds that this one would stay alive and okay on its own? It was certainly possible, seeing as it'd made it this long, and yet…

"All right, kitty. You still can't join the army, but maybe you should come with us anyway. Not all of the zombies out here listen to us – even though it says clearly in the rules that they have to – but you'll be safe at our fortress."

"Mreow," it replied contently, taking a few slow steps forward. Craig smiled and met it halfway, kneeling to pick it up. That's when it happened: an elven arrow soared, and landed true. The cat was killed instantly.

Everything seemed to still for Craig as he turned his head up slowly, greeted by the sight of a full party of elves. The archer was already stringing another arrow. "Die, traitor!"

Craig calmly pulled out what was left of his last vial and let the green liquid drip over the fallen feline. Then he put the vial away and stood. As he rose, so did the cat, joining the assemblage of zombie feline, rodent, and cow.

It took their growls and hisses for the elves to realize their mistake, but Craig didn't care. His eyes narrowed coldly. "Let's rumble."

The elves never stood a chance.

_CATS RECRUITED (5/5)_

_QUEST COMPLETE: CAT ORGY_

_QUEST COMPLETE: REVENGE_

_**LEVEL UP!**_

* * *

"The chief assassin returns!" A vampire kid exclaimed.

"Inform the dark lord," Vampir replied.

"That's stupid," Craig said shortly. "He'll be informed when I go talk to him. Besides, I have another job for you. These animal minions – and rat slaves – need to get situated. The cows fight with me, and just put the rest wherever they'll be most useful. Also, search the town for any small animals that are still alive and bring them here." They had nothing to do with the game, after all, and if he could still protect some he would. He was just glad that Stripe was staying safe in his room – something he was now making his sister text him regular updates on.

The two vampires shared a quick look before Vampir spoke up. "Quests like that are a little beneath our levels, _per se_…"

"Is that so. I'm so sorry. What's your rank here?"

"General."

"Okay. And what am I?"

Vampir hesitated, but Craig's stare was unrelenting. "Second in command."

"Oh, that's right. I am. Looks like you have to do what I say."

"Right away, sir," Vampir said, looking around quickly. Craig passed him, withdrawing to the fortress. He didn't care if he delegated, he just needed it done.

This time Craig didn't have to go as far as the throne room to reach Clyde, finding him instead on the fourth level amid at least a dozen other fourth graders. Clyde didn't seem to notice his arrival, but that was probably because at least half of the other kids were also Craigs, practicing with their daggers, playing with their cloaks, or just lounging about while others chatted.

Only one boy didn't particularly fit, but Clyde was in the process of fixing that, reaching up to pull one of Craig's hats over the blonde's head.

"There," Clyde said, satisfied, but only for a moment before he blinked up at the boy. "Actually hold on, some of your hair is still- here," he put one hand on his shoulder and reached the other up to his face. Then the tips of his fingers brushed against his cheek as they concealed the stray lock of blonde hair beneath his blue hat.

Craig glowered.

Clyde lingered. "Wow." They were so close; why wasn't he stepping away? Why weren't either of them? "You look so much like him…"

The blonde smiled. "That's good, right?"

Oh, fuck this right here. This was not okay. The _real_ Craig stalked forward and snatched _his_ hat clean off of the impostor's head. "He looks _nothing_ like me."

They both jumped at his intervention. "Craig?" Clyde asked, sounding surprised and maybe even a bit guilty, but Craig wasn't paying attention to him right now, instead focusing his anger at the would-be clone.

"Take that crap off," he demanded. Was he- was he taller than him? "Now!"

The blonde scrambled away, quick and fearful. At least he knew his place. Of course, Craig only realized once he was gone that the room had fallen into silence at his outburst; some of the other clones even shared hesitant glances.

Clyde was the one who finally spoke up. "But Craig, he looked almost exactly like-"

"No, he didn't," Craig shut him down promptly before taking a short look around. "You," he decided, tossing his hat at one of the non-Craig fourth graders, "you'll take his place. Congratulations." This inspired a small round of polite applause from the other shadow clones.

In the meantime, Clyde grabbed Craig's arm and pulled him aside. "Seriously?"

"Yep. He looks way more like me."

"Craig, he's black."

"…I don't see race." He crossed his arms pointedly. Craig was glad Token wasn't here. Anyway, who cared if they didn't look similar? It was his clone army. He should get to decide who was and who absolutely wasn't invited.

Thankfully, accusing the dark lord of misguided racism worked like a charm; Clyde became flustered immediately. "I-I don't see race either!" he insisted.

Yeah, declining Craig's offer to join them was definitely a smart move on Token's part.

"You're right," Clyde went on, "now that he's got the hat on, he looks like, way closer than the others. The others!" he repeated suddenly, letting go of Craig to gesture to the rest of the clones. "So yeah, here it is, your own personal clone army. You guys can all stay on this floor too, like, as your new quarters. I trust this meets your approval?" he asked, with more concern than ceremony.

Craig opened his mouth to question this, but then realized how unfair he was being.

Clyde had obviously worked really hard on everything, and Craig was just being a pissy prick in return. Damnit. What happened to today being a good day? Stupid elves; stupid blonde kid. Craig felt like he should maybe apologize, but wanting to avoid anything potentially awkward, made an effort to smile instead.

"It does. This is actually really, really awesome," he said, finding it easier to sound genuine when he truly was.

"Yeah?" The dark lord perked up hopefully.

"Oh, absolutely."

"Well, good." And just like that Clyde's grin was back, pure at first, before turning mischievous. "Hey, let's go up to the evil throne room for a minute? There's something you've got to see."

"Sounds cool."

"C'mon!" Clyde didn't even hesitate before grabbing his hand and pulling him along, and Craig was proud of himself; he didn't give it a second thought.


	6. Army of Dorkness

Hey readers! Getting close to the end now, can you tell? Heheh. Just one chapter to go after this one! (And a small epilogue after that.) As usual, thank you so much for the feedback! You guys rock. ;D Now what can I say about this chapter... it's probably about as silly as you'd expect at this point. The title might be my favorite part. Please enjoy!

* * *

"Is it too much?"

Craig considered this as the two of them stood in the throne room, looking over the open coffin of the school's former chef.

"Nah."

Clyde continued his critical inspection for a moment longer before smiling darkly. "Nice."

Craig had to agree. He watched as Clyde closed the coffin and went about filling a super soaker with Taco Bell sauce. It was amazing, really; every time he thought Clyde couldn't possibly become more powerful and evil, he found a new way to outdo himself. Seriously, they had everything. All that was really left was to let the humans, the elves, the girls, the pirates, and Kevin come, and hand them all their asses because yeah, their dark empire was just that good. Victory may as well already be theirs.

"Hey, so," Clyde fastened the super soaker cap tightly before setting the weapon down on top of the hazard bin, "do you think we'll win?"

It was like he wasn't paying attention at all. "Of course we will. This about the girls?" Because of course Craig had filled him in on his exchange with the princess. Well, the relevant parts of it. Anyway. "It doesn't matter what _or_ who they have. Look around for a second. We've got this. What makes you think we don't?"

"I dunno. I mean- okay, we're obviously the bad guys here right?" he asked as he started fixing one side of a long, transparent tube to the coffin that held Chef's dead body.

"Uh huh," Craig agreed, grabbing the other end of the tube and taping it to the nozzle of the Nazi zombie taco sauce.

"Well just think of every great villain ever like Sauron, and Voldemort, and the Titanic, and Thor,"

"Uh- huh?"

"They had seriously everything and then some asshole just took them down! The bad guys always lose, it's the villain's curse."

"Come on. What are the odds of that happening here?"

"Really low, but that's _exactly_ what makes them so high!" he insisted, turning to Craig as he finished with the coffin.

"That's ridiculous. There's no such thing as a villain's curse." He tugged on the taped up tube a couple of times to make sure it wouldn't pull free. "You'll see for yourself when they try to stop us. Besides, all of your bad guys are from movies…" He stood, turning to face Clyde. "This is a game."

Clyde stared. He wasn't following.

"Think about it. How many times have you died playing Halo?"

He blinked. "A bunch…" The gears turned, then clicked in realization. "We are going to kick fucking ass."

That was more like it. "Yeah, we are."

Clyde smiled earnestly. "Thanks, man. You're really good at cheering me up, you know? I mean you didn't have to bring up my crappy Halo score-"

"Really?" Craig interrupted, focusing on that first part. He always thought he was an inadequate shit at it.

"Well, uh, yeah." He glanced away, starting to fidget.

"My lord!" The sudden entrance of Vampir made both of their heads turn to the general. He carried himself with great importance, though some of it diminished when he spied Craig. Craig's satisfaction must have shown; Vampir's eyes narrowed subtly before turning back to Clyde. "I sent some of my coven outside the fortress as per the chief assassin's orders, and we captured two humans sneaking right outside our border."

"Prisoners?" Clyde's eyes lit up with excitement as he scrambled to his throne, gesturing to Craig once he was seated. Craig moved on cue to stand at his side, and decided to take a few step back from there to help him look more receded and shadowy. Clyde meanwhile was straightening his armor to his satisfaction before he let out a content hum and got out the Stick. Then he looked up.

"How do I look?"

"Evil," Craig replied. "How do I look?"

"Killer." Clyde turned to Vampir. "Bring them before me."

"At once, Master. Bloodrayne!"

At his command a silver-haired vampiress entered, escorting the unlucky pair with their wrists bound behind their backs. One was armored as a KKK warrior and the other had a black patch over his left eye, but other than that nothing was particularly significant.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? Thought you could spy on the Army of Darkness, did you?"

"No!" the warrior said at once. "We weren't spying, we were just passing by, honest!" The boy with the eyepatch just sighed.

Clyde leaned forward. "What do you think, Craig?"

"I think he answered a little too quickly."

"What should we do to them, Master?" Bloodrayne asked, flashing her fangs in an evil grin.

"Nothing… provided of course they tell us what we want to know," Clyde said.

The warrior suddenly switched from apprehensive to defiant. "Forget it! We're not telling you anything. _We'd_ never betray our kingdom," he said, turning his glare on Craig. "We're not like your filthy, rotten, double-crossing, tampon eating, shit loving fuckface _trai_-"

That was quite enough though, so Craig stepped forward, picked up Clyde's super soaker, and shot the human in the face.

"Ahhh!" the warrior cried as he snapped his eyes shut and struggled against his restraints, for what good it did. It wasn't long before his cries turned into groans, and his groans turned into devoted German chants.

"One more for the army," Bloodrayne cackled, taking the liberty to unbind his wrists and escort the turned warrior from the throne room. Vampir took her place, grabbing the remaining human's arm to keep him in check – though from the way his mouth hung open in shock, it was hardly necessary. He wasn't going anywhere.

Craig calmly brandished the super soaker his way. "Will you talk, or would you rather end up like your pal back there?"

He looked between Craig and Clyde, taking a moment to level his expression. "He wasn't my pal, just my buddy. Keep that green stuff away from me and I'll tell you what I can."

Craig lowered his weapon. "Smart."

"Pray that you can give us new information for your sake, human," said Clyde. "We already know that you have joined forces with the elves, and that you're recruiting the pirates and the girls and Kevin. What we don't know is when your pathetic forces are planning the attack."

The human looked at him blankly. "I don't know that."

Vampir clicked his tongue. "Shall we torture him, my lord?"

"Wait," the human amended quickly, "I mean, I don't think anybody knows. We still don't have the girls yet and in order to get them Douchebag has to go to Canada. They just sent him to get a passport, so I guess they won't attack you until he gets back?"

"Canada, eh?" Clyde said thoughtfully. Craig considered this too. If it was true, he doubted they'd have to worry about the final battle tonight. "Okay, human," Clyde went on, "your information is somewhat useful. If you know any other secrets that could harm your would-be alliance, I think you should tell me now unless you want your torture to be more horrible than you can imagine."

The human's eyes widened with horror as he realized he wasn't about to be spared. "You can't do that!"

"Yes I can!"

"But I don't know anything else!"

"Is that so? Very well. Say, Craig," Clyde said ominously as he leaned back in his throne. "The Fortress of Darkness… does it have a shop?"

Craig smirked knowingly. "No my lord, I don't believe it does."

Vampir wasn't quite up to speed. "What dark and nefarious fate awaits him?"

"Simple, General. First we will take the human down the hall…" pause for dramatic effect, "…set up a shop…" another pause, maybe unnecessary but still good, "…and force him to tend to it! AHAHAHAHAAA!" When he cackled, Craig joined in. Clyde's evil truly knew no bounds.

"Er…" Vampir hesitated. "Forgive me my lord, but isn't that kind of… lame, per se?"

Their laughter stopped abruptly. Clyde looked affronted. Craig glared. "Have you ever been in charge of a shop, Vampir?" he asked. "It's only the slowest, cruelest form of torture and will either break his spirit into shreds or drive him to darkness and evil." He said all of this like it was obvious, because really, it was.

The human blinked. "Oh, then- no! Anything but that!" he wailed appropriately.

Clyde looked pleased. "See? Exactly. Nothing can save you now! Take him away, Vampir!"

Vampir looked between them skeptically before shaking his head with resignation. "Right away. Come on, human, a terrible fate awaits you."

When the general and the prisoner were gone, the dark lord and his chief assassin returned to their snickering.

"Oh man, that was so awesome! That one prisoner was just like 'I'll never betray the humans but oh no now I _have_ to!'"

"Yeah," Craig laughed, "and the other guy was all '_noooo!_'"

"I know!" Clyde grinned. "So there's no way they'd dare to attack us without their precious Douchebag and the girls, right?"

"They wouldn't stand a chance," Craig agreed. "Not that they would otherwise, but yeah, we've got to be in the clear tonight."

"Then I guess there's just one more quest we need to complete." Clyde stood from his throne and walked to the balcony where he held the Stick high. "Hey everyone!" he called to his subjects in declaration, "EVIL PARTY!"

The response came in the form of a boisterous cheer, and the celebration of darkness began.

* * *

By the time Clyde's army had completed all of their side quests and tactical preparations, the party was in full swing. Clyde was living it up at the center of it all and Craig was right there with him, at least for the first few hours. Between all of the games, the dancing, the music, and the volume in general, Craig eventually retreated to the third level where they'd set up all the animals.

People still passed by, but he was content to just hang out and pet cats and keep himself company. No, really – his eight shadow clones had tagged along with him, now including a Craig of the Asian variety that Clyde appointed in an effort to be more politically correct.

So yeah, maybe he wasn't _alone_ alone, but he didn't mind. He liked them.

"Cuuuuute!"

"Super cute."

"If I could stay here petting bunnies all night, I would be sooo happy."

"I'm a level fourteen thief, I can do what I want."

"Oh."

"Don't 'oh' me!"

"Did you just flip me off?"

"We should watch Red Racer."

He liked them a lot.

Craig leaned back contently and let his gaze wander to the window. The sky was getting darker and it even looked like it might storm a little, if the clouds had any say. It was kind of a shame they weren't doing battle tonight. Lightning always crackled for the best villains during their epic battles; Clyde would have loved it. There were only a few hours now before bed time, though, and if there was any chance of the ex-kingdoms making their move today they'd have probably already done it.

"Hey, Craig!"

He and the eight others that fell into that category looked up to see Bloodrayne, just as she finished climbing down from the upper level.

"A bunch of us are getting together to play spin the bottle," she smiled deviously. "You in?" It was an open question; she looked between all of them.

"Sure," said one.

"Why not?" agreed another.

"Pass." That one continued to pet the rabbit.

Craig himself stiffened. _Spin the bottle_? It wasn't even that long ago when he'd entertained that very idea in the early stages of his failed scheme to kiss Clyde. He'd dismissed it as stupid and unreliable. Right now, though, there was just one very critical question on his mind: _was Clyde playing_?

All day long he'd been keeping that loser part of him that was into his best friend at bay. Now here was a full force reminder. About half of his duplicates got up to follow Bloodrayne, and whether it was good judgment or not, he got up too. He was just going to see; there was nothing wrong with going to see. And if Clyde was there with everyone else, well…

The floor was expectedly crowded when they reached it, but when Bloodrayne called for attention, most people stopped and turned towards her, giving them a good look at all of the faces.

"Is this everyone? Let's get started!"

He wasn't there.

Craig wanted to run back downstairs and bury his face in a kitten. He didn't even know what he'd expected, he just knew that expectations sucked. And he wasn't playing.

He and one of his clones hung back with a few others while the other three joined the larger group that was already forming a circle that took up half the floor. Once everyone started sitting down, Bloodrayne walked to the center with a bottle.

"Let's see now… who should go first?" She clicked her tongue in amusement as she set the bottle down on its side, turning it deliberately as her eyes sought a target. "How about one of our chief assassins take the honor?"

The trio – consisting conveniently of the distinct Black Craig, Asian Craig, and Craig Classic – looked at each other before Black Craig bravely got up and gave the bottle a spin. It landed immediately on himself. There was a round of laughter before they had him spin again, and again, it landed on himself. Only this time it was the Asian one.

Craig crossed his arms, kind of annoyed, while everyone else started to hoot and holler. Black Craig glanced over at Asian Craig, who actually offered him a hesitant smile. This was all the encouragement he needed to cup the Asian boy's face in his hands and close their distance with a heated kiss.

A group of vampire girls cheered loudly. Craig crossed his arms even harder.

"You're all over yourself, huh?" The clone beside him gave him a nudge while he snickered. "Oh no- no wait I've got one! Don't you think it's a little-"

"I will replace you with a Mexican," Craig threatened, effectively shutting him up.

Since it wasn't awkward enough at that point, the group decided they should go counter-clockwise, making it the other Craig's turn next. He watched as the look-alike got up and gave the bottle a spin. It seemed absurdly fitting that it landed on one of the vampire girls, and neither were disappointed when they met at the middle.

The results were in: three out of every four Craigs got some.

"Are you the real one?" the vampire asked the clone curiously.

"Maybe."

Craig snorted, but as they proceeded to stick their tongues in each other's mouths, a bitter taste filled his own. Even before he'd fucked it up Craig never had a solid approach to his whole Clyde situation, but here was his clone, unwittingly showing him the perfect scheme a freaking day and a half too late.

'_Are you the real one?'_ Clyde would ask, just after Craig gave him the most mind-blowing kiss he'd ever experienced. _'Because as obvious as it is that I've never considered this before holy shit you are a hot makeout god with perfect teeth and I think I'm in love with you let's go out forever!'_ Craig sighed wistfully at scenario A.

'_Are you the real one?'_ Clyde would also ask in scenario B. _'Okay good because DUDE one of your shadow clones just MOUTH RAPED me and ran off no seriously man he was fake and gay and WAAAAHHHHHH!'_ So maybe it wasn't an ideal, but he'd have still gotten his illicit kiss and definitive closure without the expense of friendship.

But no, he had to deal with the reality of scenario C. _'A kiss?'_ Clyde had said. _'Okay. But dude, do you want to wait until I recruit vampire girls? Because I'm super dense and really this is what you get for being an impulsive moron and not thinking things through. Now if you try anything I'll know for sure what you meant and it will ruin our friendship because I am seriously so straight, and even if I weren't I would rather touch and probably kiss some poser and look at him like you've always wanted me to look at you because he looks so much like you and-_'

His mind halted abruptly. Pause. Rewind.

'_You look so much like him…'_

No… no way. There was no way that he actually – damnit – it was wishful thinking still, it had to be. Being in people's personal space was just Clyde's thing, and just because he was impressed with some kid's resemblance to Craig didn't mean he was ogling him because of it. Things didn't just happen because you wanted them to. Right?

'_I don't want that anymore.'  
'Wh- you don't?'_

That's- that's right- he'd sounded so upset after that. Disproportionally upset, given that he was talking about Craig getting a kiss from a vampire girl. Unless he wasn't. Unless he figured it out, and had a more personal investment. It… couldn't be entirely implausible that…

'_Hey.'_

…Shit.

'_What's goin' on?'_

He was a fucking idiot.

"Where's Clyde?" he demanded sharply, only vaguely aware that he had pulled the attention of the room.

"Uh," Bloodrayne was the one who replied, turning to one of the two vampires that Craig had interrupted in the middle of the game circle, "I think he was upstairs?"

Craig didn't wait for confirmation; he took off. Clyde had some explaining to do – provided Craig let him get to it. He had half a mind not to. Of course this was all under the assumption that he wasn't mistaken again, but this time, he was almost positive he wasn't. Or maybe he'd just waited long enough already. He didn't care. Craig stormed his way through the various levels of the party until he found a crowd of people clustered in the newly designated shop and the familiar voice of the dark lord among them.

"Say it!"

"C-Can I interest you in some of my wares?"

"Ahahaha, YES!" Clyde boomed. Craig shoved through the laughing crowd to see Clyde standing on the counter and cackling as he poked the human prisoner with the Stick. "Feel the sting of unimportance!"

"Clyde." Craig felt this was a sufficient enough warning. He grabbed Clyde by the arm and proceeded to drag him from the room.

"Craig wha- uh, Army of Darkness, keep mocking the prisoner!" Clyde called over his shoulder as he struggled to keep up with Craig's quick strides. "Dude?"

Craig didn't respond or let go of Clyde's arm until he had him in the otherwise empty throne room, but only so he could turn around and grab him by the shoulders instead. "Let's talk about our deal."

It was the last thing Clyde expected, and it definitely showed. Realization and worry flashed in his eyes, and from there he struggled to regain composure. "What about it?" he asked in badly feigned indifference.

Craig just raised an eyebrow, reminding him who he was trying to fool. Again Clyde faltered, and his face started to visibly heat up. Craig enjoyed this immensely. He decided let Clyde squirm for a few seconds longer before mercifully leaning in, only to stop when he was just a breath away.

"I'm collecting."

And before Clyde could react – or Craig, for that matter – the sound of their evil war horn echoed throughout the fortress, and the cyclops on lookout duty stormed into the throne room. "My lord, they're here! The human and elven forces are preparing to attack!"

The sudden interruption made Clyde jump and whirl his head around swiftly, which in turn made Craig curse and stagger back, letting go of Clyde in favor of holding his face after being squarely clocked by one of the spikes on his crown.

"Oh shit-! Sorry! Are you- shit- I have to- sorry! Uh," Clyde was stammering frantically. Craig pulled his hand away from his face just in time to see Clyde give him a final apologetic look before he clutched the Stick and ran off to the balcony.

...Son of a _bitch_.


	7. The Villain's Curse

This is it guys, the last chapter! Well kind of, because epilogue still, but that's extra. It should be pretty short too, so I'll try to have it up soon. This right here though is the longest chapter yet and pretty much the end of the story, so a huge thanks to everyone who's been keeping with it and encouraging me to keep writing! Ah, it feels good to (mostly) finish a fic. Except now I have to work out what to write next. Dang it.

Anyway, thank you for reading, and please enjoy the conclusion!

* * *

"Army of Darkness, defend the fortress! Cyclops, fortify the tower defenses and the inner barricades! Zombies, I need you inside and on standby! Vampire kids, ground team! Do _not_ let them pass! And if _anyone_ sees that fucking new kid Douchebag, BRING ME HIS HEAD!"

If it were any other circumstance, Craig might appreciate how effectively Clyde was assuming control of the situation. Instead he opened and closed his fist, blood pounding from the rapid progression of events. He was right there! They'd been about to-!

"Furthermore! Everyone has to say really cool shit about me! I am your lord and master, and I demand to be acknowledged as such!"

God fucking damnit. Fine. Clyde had his head in the game; Craig would get his there too. He'd get his forces ready, and then he'd make the attacking armies pay for interrupting his moment, and then they'd be destroyed once and for all, and then he and Clyde would celebrate by making out.

Craig stalked to his quarters, only to find five of his clones already there on the lower of the two levels. Good, he could work with this. "Are the others on their way?" he asked without preamble.

"I think so," one of the clones replied.

"They'd better be. Now, where are my cows?"

"We'll get them up here," that same clone replied with much more certainty. He pointed to the empty space below Craig. "That one is set to go and just needs to be cranked up when you're ready. The other two-"

He didn't get the chance to finish his report, because that's when they heard it: the upsurge of dozens of battle cries and the clamor of steel and Nerf.

Craig leaped down to join his clones, and continued straight past them. "I don't care how you do it, just get it done!" he commanded without so much as a glance over his shoulder as he made his way outside, to the walkway between the towers. He needed to see what was going on; to figure out what to expect from this siege attempt.

"Your attack on us is amusing, per se, but if you think you can get far you are _sadly_ mistaken," Vampir said from below, heading off the attacking army.

Craig relaxed a little. He may not like the guy, _per se_, but it looked like he'd drawn up the bridge and was now standing as a strong first line of defense with relative ease. As a general, he seemed to have things under control.

Then, an apathetic voice came from the enemy's front lines. "Ugh, really?"

"Of-fucking-course." Another sighed. "All right, move over hobbits. We'll take care of Count Fagula."

The army broke, and from the crowd the four goth kids stepped forward, each looking annoyed enough for the next.

"You guys." Vampir puffed himself up, unmoved. "Yeah, I'm a general now, so that makes me immune to your _negative energy_, per se."

"Oh, are you."

"I forgot how much I fucking hate this kid."

"You know, we never did make up any abilities for this stupid game," the girl goth – Henrietta? – said. "We could do that now."

The tall goth took a drag of his cigarette. "Yeah, okay. What should we do to him?"

"Okay, back off," Vampir said, a hard edge replacing the previous indifference in his voice. They were getting to him. "You have a problem with me, I get that, but guess what? You can't do anything about it here. I'm a _general_ for my side, while _you_ guys clearly don't even know how to play and- hey!" he protested in astonishment as the kindergarten goth hit him in the leg.

"Sure we do." The goth with red in his hair flipped his bangs away from his face. "I'm pretty sure that means we get to attack first. Now shut up while we figure out our abilities."

Craig brought his palm up to his head and groaned. God, he took it back; Vampir was a shit general, and this was _not_ how the first fight of the final battle over Zaron should be going.

"We could summon Edgar Allan Poe to take care of him," the tall goth suggested.

"Ugh, _no_, we do not want to deal with that guy. Besides, summoning? That's so conformist," the red goth dismissed.

"So conformist," the kindergartener echoed in agreement.

"So we do the opposite of summoning." Henrietta said simply. "We send him away."

This seemed to strike a favorable chord among the goth kids. For Vampir, it was the opposite. "No!" He backed up against the moat, losing his nerve. "You can't do that!"

"Yes we can. It's our turn."

The goth kids surrounded the vampire general and moved in, starting and ending the battle with four voices channeling one damning ability: "_**Scottsdale**_."

They dragged Vampir away, and his screams quickly became lost in the commotion as the sieging army surged through and fights started breaking out all around the fortress.

And then, amid the chaos, _he_ showed up.

"Fuck." Craig went straight back to his quarters; he didn't need to stay out there to know what was coming, and he had to be ready. Not that he didn't have faith in the Army of Darkness, but Douchebag was a hero. To stop a hero, you needed a villain.

"Shadow clones, we must prepare for battle. Where are my Nazi cow minions?"

"We've got one of them right here!"

"One of the undead kids should be getting us this one."

"The one in the middle just needs to be pulled up still."

"You guys work fast," Craig said approvingly. He moved past them to climb the rope ladder to the higher level so he could do a quick hat count. Everybody was here. Good. "All right clones, this is it. The final battle. The enemy may have taken us by surprise, but do not despair! Remember, you were picked for a reason: you're all generic enough to look like me. Individually, you may not be much. Individually, _none_ of us may be much." Not true. Let the record show that Craig was very badass on his own, thank you; that just wasn't the point of this speech. "But together! Together, we are _boss_. Now to the shadows, all of you! And when Douchebag shows up with his buddy…" he thought back to Clyde, and how he'd been so close. He'd been so damn close. "We'll make them hurt."

"Awesome!" a clone said with a smirk that many of the others matched as they cheered.

"We'll be ready! What do you want us to do now?"

"What do you mean?" Craig asked. "I just told you." He didn't think it was that complicated.

"Well yeah, but Douchebag's not here yet. Shouldn't we be doing stuff in the meantime to, you know, get more ready for the battle and stuff?"

"Yeah, like what about that cow there?"

Craig frowned. "Why would we do that? We're a boss battle. That means we get to hang out in our lair until he gets here. If that's not good enough, then play Angry Birds or something."

The clones shared skeptical looks. "So you want us to do nothing and just wait."

"That's what I said." Really, he didn't see what the problem was. He checked his phone. "They'll be here in about ten minutes."

And sure enough, about ten minutes later, there they were: Douchebag and Kyle, tromping into Craig's lair like it was just one more level to be conquered.

Well, they had another thing coming. Thanks to Craig's unseen clones, the gate behind the pair slammed shut and closed off any hope they'd have of retreating.

"Ha ha, you're trapped!" Craig declared. Now was the time to get serious. He was ending this. "I'm a level fourteen thief _and_ the dark lord's chief assassin, and you will all perish here and now! My three Nazi cow minions will take care of you!"

Oh yeah. They were intimidated. Craig turned away, content to let them despair in the face of their imminent doom, and started cranking up his third and final cow.

"Douchebag I'm stuck! Can you let me in?" Stan's voice came through the boarded up window on his left. Pfft, like there was anything they could do.

Then he heard a crash.

"This should even things up!" Stan announced triumphantly. Craig looked over at him from the corner of his eye just in time to register a cow plummeting to its doom.

Shit. Maybe there was something they could do.

"I still have two Nazi cow minions!" Craig shouted, refusing to be thrown, but then he heard another crash on his right. Damnit, this was _not_ cool. "I should have started this sooner," he muttered. Stupid smart clones.

"You're gonna get it Craig, you fucking traitor!" Stan yelled as he tried to bypass the barricade. Craig rolled his eyes. Whatever. Like he even-

_Crash!_

Aaand there went another cow. "You guys are dicks."

"Sweet, you did it!" Kyle cheered. "Looks like we can't do anything about that last one though, not until we fight Craig. Come on Craig, can you hurry it up?"

"Hold on, it's almost there," Craig promised. At least he thought it was almost there, and that would just have to do; it wasn't like he was any less frustrated about it.

"Ah, okay," Kyle said. There was silence after that. "So…" Never mind. Apparently Kyle felt it necessary to attempt to engage his buddy in awkward small talk. "What do you do for fun?"

Thank god that's when the chain went rigid. Craig stepped away from the lever and turned to face his enemies, crouching to a proper rogue's stance with a knee and a hand to the floor. "Now let's see how you fare against the dark lord's chief assassin, and a cow!" Then he leaped down, and the battle began.

Almost immediately Douchebag drank a speed potion and struck down Craig's last cow with one fell slash from his sweet katana, much to the assassin's displeasure. Seriously. After all of the effort he put into getting those cows, _seriously_.

Then the katana came down on him next, and damnit, "Ow!"

There was no letting up on their side though, because it was Kyle's turn next, and he held his golf club high. "_Let's fuck 'em up_!" he said in a stat-boosting _**Rally**_ before he stepped back and looked up. "Ready, Ike?"

Craig looked up too, and saw Ike turn away from the barricade he'd been trying to break. The Canadian jumped down from his perch to join them, hurrying past Craig to stand in front of Kyle and draw his twin blades.

Kyle grinned. "Kick the baby!"

"_Don't kick the goddamn baby_."

"Yeah," Craig agreed, "you really don't have to do that."

Kyle's smile turned sharp as he looked up at Craig. "_Kick the baby_."

"_YAAAAAY!_" Ike cheered as Kyle kicked him straight into Craig's face, dealing him massive damage and leaving the chief assassin critically wounded. Ike meanwhile was just fine; he followed the momentum straight back up to where he'd been before, and returned to his dedicated thwacking of the barrier.

"Next turn, Douchebag!" Kyle said happily. "We've got him for sure!"

It sure looked like it, didn't it? Well it was Craig's turn now, and he had a surprise for them. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small smoke bomb. "_Why fight one Craig when you can fight five_?" He threw his bomb on the ground and disappeared in a wisp of smoke, only to reappear in the same fashion with full health and a raised defense with the rest of his _**Clone Army**_.

Douchebag wasn't fazed, but Kyle stared with his mouth agape. "What?!"

"I'm immune to splash damage, Clyde said," one of his clones informed while another attacked Douchebag.

"We serve a dark and terrible master!" Black Craig input helpfully.

"Yeah? Well, who needs a clone army when you have an elven one!" Kyle stepped forward, and suddenly more than a dozen elves were rushing in at his back and drawing their arrows.

"Hey Kyle, do you ever fight for yourself or is your whole thing just letting everyone else do your dirty work?" another clone asked, to Craig's delight. He really did like these guys.

"You think you're one to talk? Hmph! _Ready_!" Kyle lifted his golf club. "_Aim_!" The Craigs braced themselves as he raised it higher.

"…_Whoops_!" Kyle dropped it. He actually fucking dropped it.

Craig couldn't help it; he cracked up. It was okay because his three surviving clones were breaking into hysterics right there with him. Sure some of Kyle's _**Rain of Arrows**_ still hailed, but they only dispelled one of his clones, and all the while the legion of elves scrambled and fled in unbridled panic until it was once again just Kyle. The former elven king was red in the face as he shamefully bent down to pick up his golf club.

"Oh man, thank you," Craig said, catching his breath, "I needed that."

"Shut up!" Kyle absolutely screamed at him. "I can usually do it!"

"No comment," a clone snickered.

"AUGH! Douchebag, can you hurry up and take your turn!"

Lucky for Kyle, Douchebag did take his turn then. Not so lucky for either of them, he used his most powerful area ability too, targeting and eliminating only Black Craig.

It was back to Craig's turn again now, and he was glad they didn't time these things, because he really needed a minute. This was how a typical battle with Douchebag went? With all the hype he'd expected something a little less… he didn't know; did completely incompetent cover it, or was it just mostly?

Still, Douchebag's skills – or rather, lack thereof – turned out not to matter, as he made up for it with persistence. Craig and his clones continue to attack and deal damage, but Douchebag and Kyle continued to restore and buff themselves, all the while whittling down Craig's clone army until he had to call in the second round – and then they whittled them down, too.

"You've got to be kidding me," Craig said bleakly five minutes later when the course of the battle had reduced to him alone, wounded, and down on a knee.

Douchebag didn't respond. He drank another cup of coffee, and lifted his sweet katana.

**GAME OVER.**

* * *

**CONTINUE?**

When Craig regained consciousness, he found himself wishing he'd rather not have. It was unfortunate that wasn't how it worked.

Ugh…

What happened?

Craig pushed himself up on his elbows. He realized his head was pounding just as it began to quickly subside, but it was hardly comforting when absolute silence filled its place. Everything was quiet. Empty. Still. He turned his head back down to the wooden floor and sighed.

They lost.

Slowly he picked himself up to his feet and took a sullen look around. For the most part, everything was still intact. You could hardly tell a battle took place here, much less a boss battle. It was… upsetting.

Craig shifted his focus to the windows, where darkness continued to thrive. What time was it? He checked his phone, only to find it dead. He grumbled a bit as he put it back in his pocket, then decided he may as well do a quick personal inventory. When you lost a battle, it was pretty much a given that you'd lose some of your stuff too. He just didn't realize they'd take his dark emblem.

Craig closed his fist over the spot where it used to be, but only ended up sighing again. What was the point of anger? He'd lost, and this was the cost of it. He failed Clyde.

Clyde.

He didn't think. He didn't have to, with how familiar the route to the throne room was by now. Craig scaled it quickly, and when he found it empty, simply proceeded to the balcony in hopes that the vantage point would provide some answers.

Grabbing the bit of railing that remained intact, Craig scoped out the yard below. On the ground the signs of battle were more evident, but still the combatants were absent. They must have all gone home. All except for one anyway, who Craig finally saw almost directly below.

"Clyde," he breathed. He turned back for the exit, but only made it to just inside the throne room before he stopped.

Screw it; he was still a level fourteen thief. He gave his cloak a quick straighten and pivoted back to the balcony, this time stopping just before the space where the railing fractured off. He looked first to plot out his path, then leaped.

The fortress' exterior was just as multi-leveled as it was on the inside so he had little trouble in his descent, jumping from roof to balcony until he landed safely on the ground on bended knee. Then he hurried to his fallen lord.

"Clyde?" he asked, slowing his steps as he neared. Clyde was lying with his back against the grass, eyes closed. Craig started to seriously question if he was okay, but then he shifted vaguely.

"Hey, Craig," Clyde mumbled. He said nothing more, keeping his eyes closed and his hands at his sides. It didn't look like he was about to get up anytime soon either, so Craig sat down.

"Hey." Craig brought his knees up to his chest, then leaned back on his hands. "You okay?"

"Not really."

"What happened?"

"We lost the Stick," Clyde murmured heavily. "I got banished from space and time."

Craig sighed. He figured as much. All that work, all the excitement, all that build-up, and now here they were. It was exactly the same as it'd been at the start. "Did he have the Stick when he banished you?" Craig ventured to ask.

"What's it matter?"

"So he didn't."

"It doesn't matter." Clyde let out a strained sigh. "We lost. Game over."

Craig leaned forward, crossing his arms loosely on his knees. "Yeah, I guess I got that memo."

What could he even say? Clyde was right, everything pretty much sucked. Craig probably should have expected it. He could manage just fine, though; hell, half of his life was desensitizing himself to crap like this. Clyde, on the other hand… Clyde lacked the ability to brush things off in the same way. The fact that all of this had been so very much _his_ just made it worse. He had control of the universe, he had a fortress, he had an army, and he lost it all. It wasn't a great place to be at.

But… he did still have his chief assassin. Maybe that was worth something. Clyde had said once – well, fine, he had said just a few hours ago – that Craig was good at cheering him up. As dismal as things were right now, he had to try.

"We could rebuild."

"It wouldn't work."

"The base is still in pretty good shape."

"So what."

"Just look at the humans and elves – they fought over the Stick loads of times. Remember the battle of Stark's Pond? The Stick switched hands five times that day alone. You fought valiantly," he reminded him. "We're still in this, Clyde. Hell, we can start plotting to take it back as early as tomorrow."

Clyde shook his head against the grass. "We'd lose again," he said, leaving no room for argument.

Well, fuck that. "Says who?" Craig went on more assertively. "We still have the taco sauce, and South Park still has a cemetery. We could raise another army, and once we have that, send out ravens to all of the vampires and sixth graders and-"

"It wouldn't _work_, Craig!" Clyde finally snapped, opening his eyes just to glare up at the sky. "You think the Army of Darkness will rejoin me after this? I promised them victory, and immortality! Tonight they lost, they died, and then they quit! Look around! Do you see anyone? No! I lost my army, and I lost Chef, and I lost _you_, and Douchebag- Douchebag is way too good even though he _sucks_, and _I_ suck even more because I tried to _quit_ instead of being the super cool evil boss I was supposed to be and- and! And it wasn't even Taco Bell sauce, Craig! There isn't even a Taco Bell! It's a crashed alien spaceship and the taco sauce is actually dangerous taco _goo_ from another planet, and it won't even work anymore anyway because the dragonborn farted on a princess' balls!"

…Oh. "Well… I guess that makes a lot more sense."

"Yeah," Clyde laughed, though it was humorless and painful. "Taco Bell would never do that," he turned his head to mumble against the grass. He was a little bit flushed and even winded from his outburst, but just as quickly as his rant had begun, it was now on the wind down. "Besides," he said a bit more levelly, "even if we did try for the Stick again… even if we got back our army, or even if we got a better one, it still wouldn't work. It doesn't matter if it's a game or not, the villain's curse will always keep us from winning."

This again? Craig looked down at him, unimpressed with the reasoning. "We could still kill the Earth if we wanted to." Sure the odds were against them now, but absolutely everything had been against Clyde before and they still got really close.

Clyde shook his head. "We couldn't. We're the bad guys, and the bad guys are cursed to lose. So unless we want to turn over a new leaf…" he grimaced.

"No way," Craig said shortly, trying not to get too frustrated. Clyde told him he was good at this damnit, and he _was_ going to cheer him up, whether he chose to cooperate or not. "Let's just break it."

"Huh?" Clyde blinked.

Oh, was he cooperating? Good. "Zaron, Larnion; it's all a fantasy realm, so if it's a curse we should just break it. Like, isn't there some quest we could make up? Or, hey, Token's a cleric! He could use his divine magic to- oh wait, no, he won't help us," he remembered.

Okay, Clyde had gone strangely quiet, but he also hadn't shut anything down yet so he was at least hearing him out. Craig was on the right track, he just needed to figure out something else. He didn't know though; this was hard. He tried to think. What else could break curses?

"Um, Craig."

Craig looked down again, and this time, Clyde was looking right back up at him. He felt a sudden wave of anxiety, which seemed ridiculous because it was just Clyde, but normally he could read him so easily. Right now he couldn't.

Thankfully it only lasted for a second before Clyde smiled, faint and almost charming. "What about, like. A kiss?"

Get…

Get out.

He knew it. Not that he hadn't pretty much worked it out earlier, but that wasn't the point because _he knew it_! And here it was, right here! No more misunderstandings, and no more delay. God, he'd been waiting for this. He'd been waiting for this for a long time. And, and now…

"Dude, want me to see if there are any vampire girls around? There might be some cute ones still in the fortress."

And now he was apparently being a self-sabotaging asshole. Okay. That was good too.

Why was he like this.

Clyde didn't take it to heart though. Instead, he actually chuckled. "I deserve that," he said in acknowledgement, and even though a small part of Craig wanted to commit to being bitter, he could only fight off a smile.

"Anyway, it wouldn't work," Clyde went on. "To break a curse like this… I mean," his smile slipped into subtle uncertainty, but he stayed his course. "It'd have to be true love, wouldn't it?"

Something caught in Craig's throat. It might have been his heart. That… "That is the cheesiest goddamn thing I have ever fucking heard."

Clyde opened his mouth to respond, but whatever it was, it wasn't important. Nothing was nearly important enough to delay Craig any further. He moved over Clyde, put his hands down on either side of his head, and captured his lips against his own.

Clyde didn't react at first, but as soon as his initial surprise faded Craig felt him kissing back with increasing warmth and affection as he leaned up into him. It only made Craig want him closer, so he shifted his weight to one hand and moved the other to the back of Clyde's neck. He slid it up until his fingers grazed just into his hair, then pulled Clyde against him a little more greedily. The response was the welcoming envelop of a pair of arms, one snaking beneath Craig's cloak and wrapping itself firmly around his waist, and the other moving around his neck to cling to his opposing shoulder.

Craig broke off their kiss with a smile; he couldn't help it. Something about knowing the guy you've always wanted wanting you back just as much, he guessed. Clyde pulled away, but only far enough to look up at him searchingly.

"It's nothing," Craig assured him.

Clyde eased into a small smile of his own. "Okay."

Craig shifted to try to get a little more comfortable before he leaned down once more, and Clyde adjusted and tightened his grip to pull himself up. Their efforts resulted not in another kiss, but in the mildest of collisions between Craig's face and the front spike of Clyde's crown.

"I do not like that thing," Craig grumbled. Seriously, did it mind? It was becoming a problem.

Clyde was biting his lip in an effort not to laugh. "S-sorry, here, let me," he pulled away from Craig to sit up, and Craig reluctantly backed off so he could.

Clyde removed the crown from his head with the utmost delicacy and inspected it for damages with a sheepish little smile. Craig found it hard to stay mad at the inanimate object as he watched.

"So did it work?" he had to ask, once his head started catching back up to him. "The kiss."

Clyde flushed, but set his crown to the side and turned back to him. "I think so?"

"Good," Craig smiled. "I think so too."

Clyde positively beamed at this, leaving any and all remnants of his previous despair behind him as he sprang forward and wrapped his arms around Craig's neck. "Then it must have," he said with certainty. "But just in case…" he inched closer. "Double-check?"

"Fuck yeah." Craig grabbed Clyde's waist and met him in the middle, completely endeared, and more than a little in love.

_QUEST COMPLETE_


	8. Bonus Level: Space and Time

**Bonus Level: Space and Time**

On the fourth day, Craig and Clyde picked up the pieces of their fallen domain.

It wasn't something they necessarily had to do, it just felt appropriate. Clyde's dad actually offered to take care of most of it – something he went ahead and did anyway despite Clyde's initial refusal – but there were still a lot of things to clean up so they were doing their part. Clyde had a hammer and worked on most of the structural tearing down, while Craig focused on everything that wasn't nailed down with only a small screwdriver for various prying as needed.

They'd heard the news earlier that morning through Twitter, for that's what it was back to now; no more carrier ravens, no more game, no more Stick of Truth. Oh sure they'd contemplated searching for it anyway in the hopes that it would find its way back to them One Ring style, but the more they talked about it, the more pointless it seemed to try so they just put their costumes away and worked on fixing Clyde's backyard. It didn't sit well with either of them, but what else was there to do? At the very least, there were some good things to reminisce over.

"I still can't believe you thought I was talking about a girl," Craig said from inside the ground floor of the fortress where he stood on a shelf and pulled down the Orb of Destruction banner.

"I told you, I didn't know!" Clyde insisted from the above as he pulled out another section of floor two's chain railing. "What if you were? What if you knew how I felt and were messing with me? What if you were talking about a _Hershey's_ kiss?"

"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Maybe. I dunno… it just seemed way too good to be true, you know? Everything was going so _well_. I had a right to be suspicious."

"I take it back. _That_ is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Well what about you?" Clyde asked, switching from defensive to accusing. "It's not like you clarified. Do you know how long I spent just trying to figure the whole thing out? And then I did, so I figured I'd hit you with the tried and true Donovan Charm-"

"Eugh."

"-and you completely shut me out!"

"Your '_charm_' needs a lot of work." Craig got down from his shelf and set the Orb on top of one of the crates, right next to the rolled up armory sign. "But I guess I probably should have figured out what you were trying to do sooner," he allowed.

"See?" Clyde said, bundling up his collection of black poles and chains once he had gotten them all down. "We're even."

"Sure, okay."

That seemed to satisfy him, and they fell back into a comfortable working silence. Clyde went about tearing down all of the wall decorations on the second level, and Craig dragged the metal sheets and wood that they'd used in their barricades to the entrance, propping them neatly against the wall. That was the last of what wasn't nailed in, but Clyde was still working up above, so Craig looked around for something else in the meantime. He ended up pulling the screwdriver from his belt and taking it to the evil shield that was mounted to the base of the tree.

It took some effort, but he succeeded. Just in time, too, as he had no sooner pulled it free than Clyde started to unceremoniously drop all of the things he'd torn from the second floor down to the first over the ledge by the entrance. Craig quickly tossed his shield at the pile and climbed the ladder to help him. Together they had the second level completely cleared out within minutes. Of course, everything was now a complete mess below, but progress was progress.

Clyde sighed, exhausted, and maybe a little forlorn. "Break?" he suggested, though he was already slumping to a seat on the floor where the railing used to be and letting his feet hang over the edge.

"Sure," Craig said, taking a seat next to him. "Something up?"

"Nothing… it just," he hesitated. "It just kind of sucks, you know? That it ended how it did."

"What, that we kissed?"

"No!" Clyde protested immediately, looking over at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks. "C'mon, no way." As if to make a point of it, he edged closer to Craig and leaned his head on his shoulder. It used to make Craig tense up in conflict; now he could only smile. "I'm talking about the game," Clyde went on. "It just sucks that we lost like that, and it sucks that the guys got rid of the Stick and quit playing, and… I dunno."

Craig understood well enough. "I don't like ending on a loss either."

"Yeah, that's it." Clyde sighed. "I just wish there was a way we could keep playing."

Craig put a hand on Clyde's back and nodded in understanding. He knew. That's all he wanted, too.

Then it occurred to him. "Why don't we?"

Clyde snorted. "Oh yeah, cause it's totally that easy."

Craig thought about it a little more. "It could be."

"Are you serious?" Clyde asked, just as he seemed to realize that he was. He pulled away from Craig to look over at him. "I got banished, and you're like the only one left on Zaron. Without the Stick of Truth-"

"It was just a normal stick before it became _the_ Stick. We'd just need our own relic," he reasoned. "Something way more powerful and also better in every way," he added, because fuck those guys.

"Like what?" Clyde asked skeptically.

Oh, right. He needed a thing first. "Something like…" Craig looked around. The complete emptiness of the floor around them was suddenly not very helpful. He turned his efforts down, hoping to spy something it the mass of junk below, but didn't get that far before he found himself fixing his attention on his belt. Hm. That could work.

"Something like this." He took his hand off of Clyde to pull the tool free. "The Stick may have controlled the universe, but _this_ can control space and time," he decided.

"Craig… it's a screwdriver. That's kind of lame."

"Maybe it's – I don't know, sonic or _laser_ or something – will you just work with me here? We can still play, and instead of being stuck with stupid fantasy turn-based crap on Earth we can go on cool sci-fi time travel adventures to anywhere. What do you think?" He held it out to him.

Clyde looked down, skepticism slowly fading until finally he reached out to take the new relic, turning it over in his hand thoughtfully. "I could still be the dark and terrible master…"

"And I could still be an awesome traitor," Craig said, relishing the thought.

Clyde's grip on the Screwdriver tightened as his face twisted into a sinister smile. "Get your cloak, Craig, and maybe your spaceman suit," he stood, "for it is time now for a new era of evil. One where we reunite, spread darkness throughout time and space, and once and for all KILL THE E-"

"Boys?" Mr. Donovan knocked on the door frame, looking in. "I brought home Taco Bell, if you'd like to come inside."

Craig stood in alarm. Clyde paused. "It's not the new one, right? Did you get any green sauce?" he asked carefully.

"No, and no. Why?" He raised an eyebrow while the two of them relaxed.

"No reason. Thanks Dad, we'll be there in a minute!" Clyde grinned, and when his dad left, looked back over at Craig. "After lunch?"

"Yeah," Craig agreed, "let's kill the Earth after lunch."

And as far as they were concerned, that's exactly what they did.


End file.
